When A Phoenix Cries: Part 2 - Old Magic
by FalconLux
Summary: Hermione begins to unravel the mystery of her magic, discovering help from a most unlikely source, but at a cost that just may prove too high. Friends will be lost and others found while Severus and Hermione struggle to cling to each other through the rising turmoil of war. SEQUEL: SEE INSIDE.
1. Familiarus

**Author's Note: **I'm back! Yay! This is the sequel to "When A Phoenix Cries: Hermione" and the companion fic "When A Phoenix Cries: Severus". Read at least Hermione's POV fic first or this will be really confusing.

**Content Warning:** Rated M for **violence**, **adult language** **and themes**, and **sexual situations**. Please note, that I DO NOT plan on having any explicit sexual scenes (lemons, smut, etc) in this fic. There will be intimate moments, but nothing too graphic. Sorry if you find that disappointing, but I don't think that would work well in this story.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all affiliated characters, themes, settings, etc. belong to J. K. Rowling. I am most certainly not that brilliant woman and I therefore make no money from this story. At all. I get reviews though, so it's all good. Please note that this disclaimer applies to this story in its entirety even if it is not noted in every chapter.

**And I MUSTN'T forget to acknowledge my brilliant beta, bluefirefly5. Even if I briefly did... This fic would not be what it is without her pointing out all those pertinent questions I sometimes forget to answer, or those little caveats I may otherwise mistake. So THANK YOU bluefirefly5. I could not do it without you.**

**And so begins...**

* * *

**When A Phoenix Cries**

**Part II: Old Magic**

**Chapter I: ****Familiarus**

* * *

** ~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~**

**25 November 1977 – Friday **

I discreetly flexed and relaxed the muscles in my feet and legs, struggling to keep my blood flowing enough to avoid nodding off while I sat at my own little desk in the corner of Albus' office, enchanted quill taking notes in front of me. It was a little after seven in the morning according to the standup clock adjacent to me. I'd been sitting in this annoyingly hard chair for almost four hours, and I'd been up late meditating, meaning that I'd had approximately three hours of sleep. But I couldn't start nodding now. I absolutely could not.

The headmaster's office had been in flux with most of the elder Order members since I'd arrived, and the atmosphere had been tense to say the very least. Truly, considering the context of the discussions taking place in front of me, the fact that I could feel drowsy at all suggested that I was rather more inured to this sort of thing than was probably healthy.

"The child was completely Obliviated," Fabian Prewett was explaining to Albus now, his tone even more grim than the set of his mouth. The ghosts behind his eyes suggested that it had not been a pretty sight. "The healers in the Janus Thickey ward are hopeful that, given her age, they'll be able to reverse the damage with six to twelve months of work."

Albus nodded, his eyes about as grave as I'd seen them, but they were far from the dull desperation in the younger man's eyes. Albus, as always, was plotting. "The young are very resilient," he said gently.

Fabian sighed wearily, brushing a hand across his face. "She's the same age as Charlie," he almost whispered, and I felt a pang of sympathy. Of course he'd be comparing the girl to his nephew. And, no doubt, the girl's now deceased parents to Molly and Arthur.

The floo flared, a frequent occurrence this morning, and Alastor stepped out. He'd been recruited two weeks ago, which was a relief, as I'd been getting the feeling that he'd started to consider offering his services to Albus, which would have been a bit tricky to explain adequately as Alek couldn't speak of the Order to him. Not directly.

The auror took in the room with his usual scrutiny, cutting just a brief glance in my direction before turning his full focus to Albus. Alastor looked exhausted, though he was evidently set on ignoring that. "Most of the muggles didn't see anything worth knowing," he announced after taking in the mood of the room. "Well, the live ones."

It was an effort not to send him a disapproving glower at his off-handed remark, but since Albus and the Order still knew nothing about my secret lessons in Occlumency, I let it pass. It wouldn't do to appear too familiar with the auror.

"What have you learned?" Albus asked calmly, gesturing for Alastor to have a seat.

The auror eyed the chair next to Fabian, then drew it a few more inches away before sitting. "From what I've pieced together, Voldemort and six to twelve Death Eaters apparated into the village around nine-thirty last night. They started with the wizarding families, the muggleborn first, and then the half-blood. The muggles seem to have been chosen by whoever was handiest. The 'celebration'," he growled that word, somewhat making up for his flippancy concerning the dead muggles, "lasted until about one o'clock this morning. The death toll right now is at five witches and wizards and twenty-three muggles, but considering the state of the bodies, that's still a guess."

Fabian grimaced, "Honestly, Professor, should a student be present to hear this?"

Albus frowned with only a brief glance at me. "Unfortunately, Fabian, Hermione has seen enough of Voldemort's handiwork that the events of last night cannot shock her."

The expression in Fabian's eyes when he turned them on me again was vaguely horrified, but I barely noted it. I was far too distracted by what Albus had said. "Hermione". It was the first time the headmaster had ever called me by my given name. No doubt it was meant to encourage familiarity between myself and the elder Order members, but Albus rarely had a single motive. The rather brief but significant little twinkle he'd sent my way once Fabian and Alastor had looked at me, certainly suggested that he had, in fact, meant for me to take something from it. But what, exactly?

And, more importantly, what other method lay beneath the casually extended gesture?

I was getting a headache.

The floo flared again, and Arthur Weasley stumbled into the room, his face white, his eyes wide in panic.

I barely noted that I'd risen to my feet along with everyone else in the room.

"Arthur, what's happened?" Albus inquired tightly when the gasping man failed to speak.

"It's Molly," he croaked. "She's missing."

My heart stuttered painfully. Part of my mind instantly began insisting that she would be fine. She _had _to be fine. She certainly hadn't died in 1977, so she absolutely had to be alive. Another part was arguing that I may have changed enough to have led to her death. _Not Molly, oh Gods, NOT MOLLY!_ Yet another part of my mind was gibbering. If Molly died now… She was pregnant with Fred and George! They'd die too. Ron and Ginny would never even be born! I could lose four friends and their mother all at once.

I wrenched up my Occlumency shields, shoving Hope, Fear, and Panic back into a dark corner of my mind and walling it off. They were still there, of course. I was far from a master at this, but it did help.

As I drew myself away from the edge of fainting, I realized that Arthur had been guided into a chair. Fabian looked about as sick as I felt, his hands clenched white-knuckle in his lap, his jaw quivering very slightly while he watched Alastor trying to get Arthur to drink some tea.

And Albus was looking at me. He'd reclaimed his seat and was staring at me very meaningfully.

I opened my journal where it sat in front of me on the desk, and as calmly as I was able, began writing.

-_I have no knowledge of this event, but she did not die in my timeline.-_

I closed the journal and Albus casually opened his own while everyone else was distracted. He glanced at it briefly, and I saw the tension around his eyes relax very slightly. He then began speaking to Arthur, drawing from him one hesitant, stuttered word at a time, an explanation of what had happened.

Evidently, Arthur had just returned home after spending the night helping with the muggles in the village that had been targeted, and he'd found evidence of a struggle, and Molly gone. Molly had taken the children to her parents' house when the Order had learned that something was brewing among the Death Eater ranks. It had been done so that Molly would be able to provide more assistance to the Order, but it had evidently served to protect them. Arthur had gone immediately to check on them when he found Molly gone, and he'd learned that she'd not been back there, though the children were all fine.

Albus extracted and viewed the memory of exactly what Arthur had found when he'd arrived at the Burrow, and the headmaster had come out of the pensieve looking grimmer than ever. For a long moment, he sat in silent thought. Finally, he spoke calmly, "Alastor, Fabian, please return to the Burrow with Arthur. I may be able to locate Molly if you can bring me a small vial of blood from your youngest child, Arthur, from each of her parents, and from you, Fabian and Gideon as well if possible."

My eyes widened slightly as I realized what Albus was talking about, but I remained silent until the others had departed. "The Familiarus ritual?" I inquired quietly.

Albus raised an eyebrow in my direction. "You're familiar with it?"

"I've read about it," I allowed. It had been in the book that Severus had given me for my birthday. It was blood magic. A very old and very rare blood ritual. Merely casting it would be breaking at least twelve Ministry laws, even with the willing participation of the blood donors.

He looked intrigued by that bit of insight. "I see," he murmured thoughtfully. "And your thoughts on the matter?"

"Who do you have in mind for the catalyst?" I asked flatly, fairly convinced that I knew the answer.

Albus stared at me for a moment, before quietly replying, "I will ensure that no permanent harm comes to him."

I closed my eyes briefly as I absorbed that. "I want to be there," I said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"You do not trust me?" he inquired mildly.

"I believe that you will stand by your word, sir," I admitted, "but you've only offered to protect him from physical harm. I want to be there as… moral support. I did recruit him, after all. I can't help but feel some responsibility. And we both know that he is a bit… fragile at the moment."

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "I'm pleased to see that you take such interest. How much do you know about the ritual?"

"I could probably cast it if I had to," I admitted, then amended, "If my magic were functioning properly."

He looked pleased to hear that. "Very well. You'd best head to breakfast now. I'll prepare the ritual for this evening in the forest. High moon, I think."

I nodded grimly, slipped my journal into my bag, and left the headmaster's office. I didn't have much appetite considering that Molly could be dead or dying even as I tucked into eggs and sausage, but I knew that I was going to need my strength. This was going to be a _very _long day.

* * *

**~.~.{S.*.S}.~.~**

I arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast to find Hermione already eating, which was a bit surprising. She usually rose a bit later than me in the morning – when we didn't share a bed. I took my seat at her side and my concern grew sharply when I got a good look at her face. There were circles under her eyes and her skin was a shade paler than normal.

"What's wrong?" I asked when her tremulous smile cemented my concern.

The attempted smile slipped away as though it had never been. She opened her mouth as if to answer, then closed it again.

With a sigh, I cast a quick _Muffliato_, and tried again, "What's wrong, Hermione?"

"Molly Weasley has gone missing," she replied, her eyes fixed on her plate as she continued to eat at a pace that was measured enough to appear slightly forced. "The evidence suggests that she may have been taken."

My stomach dropped and I vaguely wondered how Hermione had any appetite at all. Mine had surely deserted me in response to those two sentences. I didn't really know Molly Weasley at all, but I knew that she was a member of the Order, and not all that much older than us.

"Albus has a way to find her," she continued in that same quiet, toneless voice. "It might work," she added with little apparent conviction. "There was a… raid last night," she went on after a moment of silence in which I attempted, with little success, to conjure the will to eat something. "A small village. Something like thirty dead. Don't be surprised if Alek and Minerva are a bit touchy today. None of us have had much sleep."

My mouth tightened reflexively. It bothered me the way that Hermione tended to lump herself in with the older Order members. Of course, it was essentially accurate. That much had become very clear to me in the last three weeks. I knew that the headmaster was in direct contact with her at least once a day just from my own observations of her habits regarding that journal. She was also summoned up to his office two or three times a week, sometimes for more than an hour. She'd confided to me that the time was spent mostly in observing debriefings from various Order members. Dumbledore, evidently, could not manage them without his "record keeper" present.

Hermione believed that the headmaster was doing it to get the older Order members accustomed to her constant presence. Again, it seemed to come back to whatever he was grooming her towards after graduation. I couldn't help but think that it was interfering with her studies. Between practicing her magic, dealing with sleepless nights brought on by nightmares, and trying to keep up with seven NEWT level classes, she had quite enough to be worried about without acting the part of a full member of the Order of the Phoenix as well.

Not that I could say any of that to Dumbledore _or _Hermione, of course. He'd just smile benignly and change the subject, I was certain. She would not appreciate my interference. It was quite obvious that she did not resent the added responsibilities. Quite the contrary. She devoted herself quite studiously to her Order duties. Though she was generally forthcoming with me about what all she did – at least she didn't often tell me that she couldn't tell me things – but I still found the situation difficult.

"Are you okay?" I asked warily, covering her free hand with mine.

She stared blankly at her plate for a moment before shaking her head and taking another bite. "There's nothing more that I can do now, though," she admitted after swallowing the bite. "I have to trust in Albus to find her," and that sentence seemed to leave a bitter taste in her mouth, which she attempted to wash down with a swig of juice. She stared at her mostly empty plate a moment longer, then pushed it away, where it promptly vanished.

"I'll see you in Potions," she said quietly, gripping my arm gently while she leaned in to kiss my lips lightly.

"Okay," I said grimly as she got up. I wanted to do more to comfort her, but I couldn't imagine what that might be.

* * *

**~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~**

I settled down in my meditation room, and set to work trying to organize my troubled thoughts into some kind of workable pattern. It was far more difficult than usual as my mind was repeatedly invaded by an awful image of Molly Weasley surrounded by masked Death Eaters and the sickeningly attractive Dark Lord of this time.

Finally, I was forced to occlude my mind. I sifted my fears back away from my surface thoughts and drew up my walls. Traditionally, Occluding was accomplished by creating walls within the mind constructed of an absence of thought. If these walls were strong enough, a person could then prevent a Legilimens from accessing any thoughts concealed beneath or behind those walls.

I had discovered over the summer that I personally did not seem capable of attaining the proper degree of mental blankness to create a suitable shield. With some experimentation, however, I found that there was more than one way to Occlude. My shields were built of a presence of thought rather than an absence. I pictured it as a swarm of bees darting about madly within a golden cloud that bore more than a passing resemblance to the physical manifestation of my unformed magic. Each bee was a thought, but even if a Legilimens were able to make sense of them individually, none were anything that couldn't be found in reference books common to any wizarding library in Britain. Potions ingredients and properties, arithmantic tables and formulae, ancient magical history, _Hogwarts: A History_, cover to cover (1976 edition, of course), more than two thousand laws and bylaws of the British Ministry that I had somehow crammed into my head over the years, and much, much more. Just random bits of knowledge unattached to any memories. All together, they did rather buzz like a swarm of bees.

Once my mind was drifting freely within the dense cloud of trivia, my anxiety drifted away, and I discovered a level of focus I had never before reached in my meditation. I had never before considered trying to Occlude while meditating – it certainly was never mentioned in the book Albus had given me – but it really seemed to make a big difference in just how deeply into my meditation I was able to go.

I felt my magic rise like a comfortable heat in the center of my chest, and I allowed it to build there until the heat became a flame, and then an inferno, but it did not become uncomfortable – just… intense. Finally, I released the mitigating control that was containing it within my chest, and I felt it flood outward, encompassing the whole of my body in that wonderful warmth.

Finally, I opened my eyes. And immediately squinted against the sudden intensity of the light in the room.

Holding carefully to the balance of the magic within me, I stood and turned to face the mirrored wall.

My jaw drooped as I took in the sight that was reflected back to me. My entire body, right down to the strands of my hair, was shining with brilliant golden light that seemed to radiate from within my skin. My eyes, shone brighter still, the warm brown color completely eclipsed by blinding golden light.

A small murmur of alarm escaped my lips, and my concentration faltered. The light flared, dimmed, and flared again, and my Occlumency shields collapsed.

The magic that I had been controlling suddenly surged wildly, and exploded from me with a brilliant flash.

Instinctively, I fell into a crouch and shielded my face with my arms as the sound of shattering glass filled the room, accompanied by a deafening BOOM.

Trembling, I lifted my head warily to find the room was in ruins. Tiny shards of shattered mirror were everywhere – except on me, as not one tiny speck seemed to have touched me. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the room were all spider webbed with cracks.

* * *

**~.~.{S.*.S}.~.~**

Hermione had been right. Alek looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his grim eyes, and his skin looked a touch too pale. Of course, he conducted the class with the same combination of patience and stern disregard for foolishness that he always had. It was possible that I only noticed the difference in him because Hermione had warned me, but it _was _there.

We were working on casting the patronus charm today. It wasn't something that was generally taught at Hogwarts at all considering just how advanced it was. I'd been the only one in the room not surprised when Alek had announced our focus, though I had done my best to act like I was. Hermione had been the one to suggest that Alek try to teach it to more than the Order class. She'd pointed out to me that even a non-corporeal patronus could save lives. Evidently, the Order feared that the Dark Lord may recruit Dementors.

Not surprisingly, the greatest success in the room was from those of us in the Order, who'd already been practicing this charm last week. We had all managed at least a non-corporeal patronus thus far. Potter had managed a half-formed patronus that looked like a deer of some kind. Sirius was scowling at the faint silvery mist coming from his own wand, his irritation with his limited success almost certainly proving a detriment to his efforts. Lupin wore an expression of deepest concentration as he managed something defined just enough to be identified as quadrupedal. Longbottom and Ferris had both managed a decently strong silver mist, but nothing more.

Beyond the Order members, Lily had a faint, but fully formed doe trotting circles around her groups of friends. Her delighted smile, I realized, had considerably less effect on me than it would have last year. Peter was devoting most of his attention to praising the achievements of his friends, and had yet to manage anything of his own. Narcissa occasionally managed a faint burst of mist. Lucius, his face fixed into a calm but incredibly focused expression, was managing something just slightly more than mist, but not defined enough to begin to make out a form within. He was ignoring his collected goons entirely, as they utterly failed to produce anything at all.

"Mr. Snape," Alek's quiet voice intruded on my assessment of my classmates, and I turned to face him. "Are you going to cast the spell?" he asked with a smile that touched only his eyes.

"Yes, sir," I said quietly, focusing as I lifted my wand. I drew on the happiest memory that I had. The first moment when I'd really understood that Hermione actually did want to be with me. I threw myself into the memory, let it consume me with that wonder and elation. "_Expecto patronum_!"

With a flash of brilliant silver light a very large winged form leapt from my wand. Three rapid flaps of wings at least two meters across, and the very large bird began to sore circles around the room, over the heads of the suddenly silent class. I stared in wonder at the first full manifestation of a corporeal patronus that I'd managed. It was… brighter than I'd expected. After two turns around the room, the bird landed in front of me, nipped my hand affectionately, and vanished.

After a moment, I managed to look at the professor again. He actually looked shocked, which was a look I'd never seen on his face before. It took him only a moment to regain his composure, turning to address my classmates, who I realized, were all staring at me.

"That, boys and girls, was a perfect example of a fully corporeal patronus," he announced with a slight smirk on his lips.

Potter, I noticed, was staring at me with undisguised hatred. Lupin looked impressed. Black, annoyed. Lily… I quickly tore my eyes away from the slightly shy look of pride that she was sending my way. Lucius, I noticed was watching me thoughtfully, as though he'd just discovered an interesting new puzzle. It was a look very much like those he often directed at Hermione. I wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

"Well, back to work!" Moody barked at the room in general. As the noise level began to rise with various _expecto patronum'_sagain, he added, more quietly, "Well done, lad."

I smiled in return, still vaguely amazed at my own success. I had just lifted my wand to try it again when a distant rumble shook the entire room. I quickly grabbed the nearest desk to steady myself as the chandelier rattled ominously overhead.

It lasted only a moment, but it was incredibly unnerving. In almost six and a half years at Hogwarts, I'd never felt anything like that before. I looked at the professor to find him frowning with concern for just a second before he wiped his face clear, projecting unconcern. "All right, settle down!" he barked over the rising exclamations as the students began to speculate about the disturbance. "If there's any reason to be concerned, we'll be informed about it. Until then, you've got a charm to practice!"

* * *

**~.~.{A.*.D}.~.~**

Albus frowned at the scrolls spread open across his desk. The Familiarus ritual was not overly complex, but it was power-intensive. Historically, the ritual was usually carried out by a circle of five, seven, or even thirteen individuals. The minimum reference he had been able to find was for a circle of three. He had no doubt that he could manage it individually, but putting that much power into the spell was going to be exhausting, and he'd be very vulnerable while the spell was active. While he may very well be leading others right into a battle.

Alek and Minnie could fill out a circle with him, but explaining the ritual would take time. And he wasn't entirely sure how either of them would fare after that kind of magical drain. They were both highly skilled, but this ritual required raw power. Edgar Bones was probably the strongest Order member for power alone, but Albus wasn't sure how the man would respond to this kind of ritual. The Hufflepuff really was better suited to administrative type duties than anything that walked the line between light and dark.

Regulus Black would serve as a powerful catalyst with his somewhat distant relation to Molly Weasley strengthening his position. With any luck, the Dark Mark on his arm would help passively provide added power as well. And there was something rather poetic about Tom's own magic being used against him. Of course, he'd have to Obliviate the boy when he was done, lest Tom investigate the unexplained draw and discover Mr. Black's willing participation. A temporary Obliviate should do the job…

Albus sighed heavily. He'd have to do the ritual himself. He couldn't afford to have two of his professors magically drained. He'd be sure to bring Filius though. If there was anyone who may be able to hold out if Tom showed up, it would be Filius.

Albus was shaken from his thoughts as an echoing BOOM rattled his office. Fawkes squawked in alarm from his perch, and the Hogwarts wards shuddered beneath the force of the magic that had caused the disturbance.

Albus was on his feet in an instant, his magic reaching out to the wards as he felt along them for the point of origin while they settled down once more. He was sweeping past the gargoyle guarding his tower when he determined that the detonation that had shaken the entire school had come from the Room of Requirement. His pace quickened further as he immediately guessed at the source. There was only one person likely to be in the Come and Go Room at this hour.

Indeed, he was just rounding the corner into the appropriate corridor when he saw Hermione Wilkins closing the door behind her. She appeared a bit shaken, but uninjured. She blinked up at him as he approached.

"Come with me," he said quietly, turning quickly and returning to his office with her in tow. This was certainly not a conversation that he wanted to have where anyone might overhear.

* * *

**~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~**

I gently closed the headmaster's office door behind me, moving to a seat in front of his desk when he motioned me toward it. I was certain that I knew why he'd shown up when he had, and what he now wished to speak to me about, but I kept my mouth shut and waited for him to speak. There was no point in giving him any information that he didn't think to ask for.

"Miss Wilkins," he said finally. Not "Hermione" this time, I noted. "What exactly happened in the Room of Requirement just now?"

"You felt that?" I asked timidly.

"I'm quite certain the entire school felt that," he replied shortly. "What happened?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "I was practicing my meditation," I admitted. "I brought more of my magic to the surface than I ever have before, and then… My concentration… slipped. Instead of harmlessly dissipating as it usually does, it just kind of… surged out of me."

"With physical force," he gathered.

I nodded warily.

He leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard as his eyes grew a bit distant. "How do you feel now?" he asked without focusing on me.

"Fine," I admitted.

He remained in silent thought for a minute or two before he spoke again. "Do you think that you have enough control to assist with the Familiarus ritual tonight?" he asked in the most casual tone.

I blinked at him, but otherwise maintained my composure while I mentally assessed the ritual in question. "You need a casting circle," I surmised.

He nodded silently.

All that I would need to do is channel my magic into the ritual while he did the more complex bits of casting. I was sure that I could manage that much – if I held onto my control. The fact that he was asking me at all was a testament to how much respect he held for my raw power. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "Who else will be in the circle?" I wondered.

"No one," he said, studying me with quiet intensity.

I kept my face schooled to a thoughtful expression while I considered that. Doubtless it would be exhausting with only the two of us, not that that mattered in the slightest if it brought Molly home safely. That wasn't the only concern though. "Can the ritual be completed with a 'circle' of two?" I wondered. "I didn't think it could be an even number."

He nodded, his eyes twinkling a bit in a way that made me think he was impressed that I'd noted that detail. "In general, that is true," he admitted. "I believe that we can get around it, however."

I could only think of one way to "get around it" and I didn't like it at all. It would involve my magic and his getting more up close and personal than I was really comfortable with. "Why not just include a third?" I asked, keeping myself outwardly no more than mildly curious.

He shook his head, "There are several reasons. Primarily, however, there simply is not time to prepare the ritual and explain it to another participant. You have already stated that you could probably cast the ritual, so I imagine I won't need to explain anything."

"That makes sense," I agreed peaceably. Damn. I did _not _want to go into this with Albus alone. There was a chance that I was worrying unnecessarily. There was also a chance that… This ritual was known to have certain… side effects on the casters. I couldn't say no. Not when Molly's life was on the line. Which left me with the choice of creating a third option. "Of course, _I _would have time to explain the ritual to someone."

"You have classes to get to."

I frowned at him patiently. "Sir, we both know that I'd have no difficulty making up one day of classes. I've not been ill since the incident in September. Perhaps I am due."

He studied me with an air of amused consideration. "Who would you choose to assist us?" he posed.

I pretended to think about it, though the answer jumped to mind immediately. "I would think either Professor McGonagall or Moody would suffice."

He shook his head, "I'm afraid I cannot afford to have my professors magically drained."

That seemed like a rather weak excuse to me, but I nodded as though I understood. Neither of them had actually been my first choice anyway. I affected another moment of thought while surreptitiously firming my Occlumency shields. "Hm. Well, Alastor Moody is quite powerful, is he not?"

Albus seemed to consider that. "He is," he murmured. After a moment, he nodded, "Yes. That may work. Do you believe you could prepare him in time for the ritual? We begin at five."

"It shouldn't be a problem. You did warn Remus to stay out of the forest tonight?"

His damnable eyes twinkled at that remark. "He will not venture beyond the shack tonight."

I nodded, "Where should I meet Mr. Moody?"

"I'll summon him to the castle. Why don't you go to the Room of Requirement? You can work on your control while you wait, and I'll have him join you when he arrives."

I nodded agreement and left the room.

* * *

**And that's chapter 1. I do hope I've piqued your interest once more. Chapter 2 is complete and requires only a final editing. It will be posted on Friday, I believe. As to a future posting schedule, I really don't know, but I will do my best to get at least one chapter up each week. I don't foresee any more multiple-month absences until at least June, but I can make no promises given my health. Should that occur, I do promise to let you know though.**

**As always, I love you all, and I love to hear your thoughts. Reviews are greatly appreciated and keep my muse healthy and functional. ;-)**


	2. By Moonlight

Many huge, gigantic thanks to my brilliant beta **bluefirefly5**, for her prompt, consistent, inspiring input on all things Phoenix. She has brought a lot to this story. Thanks.

* * *

**Old Magic**

**Chapter II: By Moonlight**

* * *

**~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~**

I started when the door unexpectedly opened. By the time I identified the interloper as Alek, both Alastor and I had our wands trained on him. The old wizard just smirked at the pair of us as we lowered our wands.

"Did you need something, Alek?" I inquired as he closed the door behind him.

"Alastor told me what you're planning today," he supplied as he lowered himself into the chair I'd been using.

I silently requested another chair while Alastor resumed his seat, and I joined them when it appeared.

"Can you do it?" he asked when we were all settled.

I suppressed the urge to grimace at the question. "I think so," was the best answer I could give. "Obviously Albus does as well or he wouldn't have asked."

"Unless I'm mistaken," Alek noted, "Albus is not as well appraised of your progress with your magic. Based on what Albus didn't quite say at the staff meeting after lunch, I gather that rumble that shook the castle this morning was your doing?"

I fought a blush and nodded. "Yes."

"And how sure are you that this won't happen during the ritual?"

"Eighty percent," was the best I could give.

He nodded as though he wasn't surprised by the estimate. "Then you have three choices. Do it anyway, and face the consequences. Decline your part in the ritual, and try to find an alternative. Or find a way to increase your odds of success."

"Albus doesn't want a professor involved," I admitted, forcing myself to think critically and not emotionally. "I don't know of anyone else who could participate in the ritual on such short notice."

"Severus could," he offered neutrally.

"No," I said instantly.

Alastor huffed quietly in either annoyance or amusement – both probably. Alek didn't look the smallest bit surprised.

"I can't just back out," I argued, with myself mostly. "Molly's life is on the line."

"That's one option down," he noted. "What could you do to increase your chances of completing the ritual successfully?" he posed.

I took a deep breath and considered his question. "I need to hold onto my Occlumency shields. That's what went wrong the last time. The shields slipped and I lost control."

"Severus," Alastor said succinctly.

I frowned at him unhappily.

Alastor shook his head disapprovingly, "You need help stabilizing your magic. I know for a fact that there's no one alive you trust more than him. And he has the power and control to do it."

I turned my frown inward as the prat made a good point. I did _not _want Severus involved, but I was forced now to stop and ask myself why exactly that was.

There were several reasons, I quickly concluded. Unfortunately, none of them were all that good. First and foremost, I really didn't want to draw Albus' eye to him any more than it already was. At least not so soon. Severus was smart and powerful, but I didn't think he was up to sparring with Albus yet. I didn't want to know what Machiavellian ideas that old bastard might get for utilizing Severus when he realized how much potential he actually had. And would Severus recognize the danger before it was too late?

But all of that amounted to me trying to mother Severus, which I knew was wrong. As much as I wanted to wrap him in swaddling and tuck him away where the horrors of the war couldn't tarnish my beautiful, caring, selfless man, I knew that it was unfair to him to do so. He wasn't a child.

I didn't like it, but I knew that if I tried to smother him, I was going to end up losing him. He was my equal in most respects. I had to treat him that way. He deserved nothing less.

Alek's presence made me withhold my resigned sigh, but I nodded. "I'll speak to him. Are you ready for the ritual?" I asked Alastor as I stood.

"I'll answer any questions he might have," Alek offered, so he _was _familiar with the ritual. "Speak with Severus. And meet me near the forest at four-forty-five."

I found Severus in the library on my way downstairs and gave a silent cheer at not having to waste time looking for him. He looked at me with concern as I approached him, but held his questions when I hastily urged him to follow me.

Once we were closed into my room, he asked, "What happened? Why weren't you in class?"

I sat down on the sofa at his side and grimaced as it only just then occurred to me that I'd told him that I'd see him in potions, and then ended up skiving classes.

"Sorry," I said quickly. "It's been a _really _long day." I checked my watch. "And we don't have much time, so I'll make this as quick as I can. I told you that Molly was missing, presumably abducted by Death Eaters."

He nodded warily.

"Albus is going to use the Familiarus ritual to locate her."

His eyes widened slightly.

"The ritual is going to take place in a little over an hour in the forest. I need to meet Alek at a quarter to five." I took a deep breath, blew it out briskly, and went on. "Albus wants me to be a caster along with Alastor. Albus is going to lead the ritual."

"But your magic…" Severus frowned.

"I know," I nodded. "I won't have to do anything except feed unformed magic into the ritual, but I am going to need to maintain careful control for an extended period of time. For that… I need your help."

He frowned with concern, "What do you need me to do?"

Gods bless this man… I'd do a mental litany of all the reasons I wasn't worthy of him later since I didn't have time at the moment. "I need your help to keep my magic stable. Your magic won't actually be touching the ritual, I just need it to remain in contact with me in the event that my control falters."

His brow furrowed in thought. "I think I know what you mean, but I've never done anything like that before. From what I've read, it's really difficult. What if _I _can't hold the control?"

I smiled tightly. "That's why we're going to spend the next forty-five minutes practicing," I said more brightly than the situation warranted.

He nodded cautiously.

"If you're willing to try," I added tentatively. "It's not entirely without danger for you…"

"Hermione," he interrupted. "You know it's not danger to _me _that I'm worried about."

My heart warmed considerably and I leaned forward quickly to capture his lips. Both of our nerves made the kiss a little desperate, but I forced myself to withdraw in short order. We had too much to do to be wasting time on that – however much I wanted to. "Okay," I said as steadily as I could. "For the ritual, you'll need to sit behind me. Just put your hands on my shoulders."

I turned on the sofa so that my back was to him and I felt his hands close lightly over each shoulder. I absolutely could not prevent a slight shudder at the contact. Merlin, I'd be happy if the man never stopped touching me. "Okay," I said again, a little less steadily. "I'm going to draw on my magic. I just need you to touch it with yours."

"All right," he said quietly.

I took a slow breath and closed my eyes. First, I drew my Occlumency shields up as firmly as possible. Then I reached for my magic. It swelled within my core, and I let it build a bit before sending it into the rest of my body. Severus' hands tightened on my shoulders, but rather than being a distraction, it actually helped me to feel more focused. The contact was a comfort. Severus was here. He was safe. He was mine. Nothing else mattered.

At least, that's what I thought until I felt his magic touch mine.

I recoiled slightly on pure instinct. It felt incredibly foreign to be touched by raw magic that wasn't my own. It was like… Well, it was somewhat reminiscent to the first time I became aware of the sensation of Alastor's mind touching mine during Occlumency practice. It was intimate in the way that a part of me that should be inherently mine alone was being invaded by an outside presence.

Unlike feeling another mind touch mine though, this was _more _intimate. Much more. It was like… Well, I'd yet to have sex for all the times Severus and I shared a bed, but I couldn't believe that that could be any more intimate than this. Magic, I had discovered since I'd started meditating, was the essence of life at the most base level.

His magic probed against mine tentatively and I let out a shuddering breath at the same time that I heard him gasp. No wonder this was purported to be so difficult. It wasn't about the difficulty of touching one person's magic to another. It was about the two coexisting effectively. Alastor had been right. I never could have borne this with anyone I trusted less than Severus. Even with him it was an effort not to shove him away on pure instinct.

But it was Severus. And for that reason, I only wanted him closer, in every conceivable way. This one included.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Wonderful," I breathed, then blushed when I realized how… erotic that had come out. I cleared my throat a little and nodded, "I, ah… Yeah, I'm good. You?" I attempted to rally.

"Good," he replied shortly, his voice tight. He slid a little closer to my back.

"Okay… I'm going to work on channeling my magic, and drawing more deeply. Try to keep me stable, but if you're concerned that it's not working well enough, let me know. I… I just about destroyed the Room of Requirement earlier when I lost control. I don't want to hurt you."

"I will," he agreed, and I felt his breath ghost across the back of my neck. He'd moved closer again.

I leaned back until I was resting against his chest, and struggled to turn my focus where it belonged.

The minutes of practice passed far too quickly, and I found myself wondering if we could try this again when we weren't so rushed. Now wasn't the time to be worrying about that though, so I pushed the thought away, instead trying not to blush at the thought of doing something so… intimate in front of Albus and everyone else. They wouldn't actually see anything we didn't let them, of course, but it was still…

Not the time to think about that.

We met Alek near the forest as planned, the lightened tip of his wand making him easy to locate. He nodded to both of us and started leading us down a slightly worn trail into the dark forest. I made an effort to not think about the last time I'd been wandering out here at night. With Umbridge. And Harry.

"Are you ready?" Alek asked quietly as we walked.

"As I can be," I replied neutrally.

He just nodded and we said no more. The walk took nearly ten minutes before the forest opened up into a clearing ringed with torches. I recognized quite a few Order members lingering around the edges. Arthur, Gideon, and Fabian were obviously present, in addition to Minerva, Filius, and Marlene. There was one more that I didn't recognize. By the way he was chatting with Marlene and Gideon and the way he held himself alertly made me guess he might be an auror.

In the center of the clearing, the ritual had been prepared. There was a low, flat slab of white marble serving as a table. Five vials of blood were spaced evenly around a shallow black marble bowl, all of which rested atop a large sheet of blank parchment. A palm-sized moonstone next to the bowl glowed dimly in the light of the full moon nearly directly overhead.

Set apart from the slab were two identical moonstones, spaced to form an equilateral triangle. Had there been five casters, it would have been a five-pointed star, or seven, nine, etc. Sitting in the center of the triangle, on the opposite side of the slab from Albus' position, was Regulus Black. His eyes met mine and I could see that he was nervous. I gave him a small, reassuring smile, and a nod. He returned it, though his smile looked a little sick. I wondered what Albus had said to get him here. And how much he'd explained.

When I looked away from Regulus, I found myself meeting Albus' eyes. He glanced briefly at Severus, then motioned for me to join him as he paced to the unpopulated side of the clearing. I squeezed Severus' hand briefly, then left him to speak to the annoying old man, firming my Occlumency shields on the way.

"Why is Mr. Snape here?" he asked without evident opinion.

"I was concerned for my ability to maintain control during the ritual," I admitted simply. "Severus has agreed to assist me. It won't affect the ritual."

Albus eyed me intently, "You believe he can do that?"

"We've been practicing," I nodded, affecting that it was not the big deal that we both knew it was. "We have been quite successful with it."

Albus nodded slowly, still staring at me as though he'd just discovered a fascinating new facet of my person. I didn't care for that look, but there was nothing to be done about it. "Very well," he said at last. "Just be sure to remind him to remain behind you at all times."

I gave a brief nod to the unnecessary reminder and left him to crouch next to Regulus. "Did he tell you what's going to happen?" I asked, hiding my concern for him, which would most likely incense the proud young man.

He nodded stiffly.

"It'll be over soon," I promised, gripping his hand briefly in a silent show of support.

"If everyone could take your positions. It is time to begin," Albus called.

I moved to sit crossed-legged in front of one of the moonstones while Alastor mimicked me at the other. Regulus removed his cloak, revealing that he was naked from the waist up, and turned to face Albus. Severus knelt behind me and I felt his hands close over my shoulders. I closed my eyes and took a deep, slow breath, centering myself and arranging my mental shields while I took hold of my magic. I felt Severus' touch mine almost immediately and withheld a shudder of pleasure at the warmth, comfort, and _love _I felt with it. I tried to return the sensations before returning my focus to my magic.

Once all attention had focused on Albus, he drew his wand, and began the low chant. I took my moonstone in hand, held it between my palms, and began feeding my magic into it. The glow of the moonstone increased.

Albus lifted one of the vials of blood in one hand and raised his wand in the other while he chanted. Regulus hissed in discomfort and I sympathized with the part of my mind not completely focused on my magic. Albus was magically transferring the blood from the vials onto Reg's skin in the form of runes. The blood of Molly's parents would be on his face. The blood of her brothers on his arms, and the blood of her son in his chest. And each rune would burn mildly but without physical harm as they were applied.

When half the blood from each vial had been applied, Albus began pouring each into the bowl, then carefully placed his brightly glowing moonstone into the center of the bowl, the quiet, complex chant falling from his lips unceasingly.

I felt the pull on my magic increase, and obliged the hungry ritual, drawing more deeply, feeding the power through my arms and into the stone. My eyes opened instinctively as I felt the air beginning to grow thick with magic. The triangle made up by we three casters had begun to shimmer with what looked like a combination of heat waves sparking with tiny bolts of electricity. The bolts were multihued though, magic rather than electricity.

The sparks shimmering most strongly around me were brilliant golden with a few touches of silver here and there. Around Alastor, the sparks were mostly red with dark purple undertones. Those surrounding Regulus were an fairly even mix of orange and green, though there was black rising from the vicinity of his left forearm. Damn. How had I overlooked that? Albus was bathed in a cloud of darkest purple and equally dark blue.

All of these colorful sparks hovered in the air within the triangle, and revolved lazily on their way toward the bowl and the focus moonstone within it.

The magic in the air was almost stifling, more intense than anything I'd ever felt. As it built to a crescendo, I felt my control waver. Before it could get out of hand, Severus' magic pressed against mine, a steadying influence, and I felt my magic stabilize once more.

The moonstones Alastor and I held glowed brilliantly while the stone in the bowl shone through the blood to bathe the clearing in chilling red light. Albus' voice rose to almost a shout as he lifted the bowl high, then slowly overturned it, allowing the blood to drain slowly onto the parchment. Eerily, it did not splash at all despite falling from that height. It landed in mercurial droplets that instantly began to roll across the page, being absorbed gradually as they moved and leaving dark lines on the parchment as they passed.

The last drop of blood fell from the bowl, and Albus fell silent. The clearing was abruptly cloaked in a complete lack of sound. Even the forest had gone silent around us.

I shivered slightly as Albus quietly intoned, "It is done."

All four of us in the triangle slumped as the draw on our magic ceased, and Severus pulled me back against his chest. "Are you okay?" he whispered in my ear.

I took a deep breath, and nodded. That had been… intense. I made a quick mental note to avoid becoming involved in any more blood ritual where possible.

I realized then that Albus had stood, somewhat unsteadily, and I hurried to do so as well, unwilling to be left out of the purpose of this whole thing. I inserted myself in the group gathering around Albus and the parchment, which had become a detailed map drawn in blood. The X indicating Molly's location could have been taken right off a pirate's treasure map.

Albus was laying out the plan of attack. They were going to apparate to a point near the location and assess what they were dealing with, hopefully without tripping any wards before they were ready.

"Hermione, take Mr. Snape and Mr. Black back to the castle," Albus said to me dismissively.

"Respectfully, sir," I interjected, "I want to come with."

He gave me a disappointed frown. I _hated _that look, guilt trip that it was. "Hermione-"

"Girl's right," Alek put in mildly.

Albus threw him a sharp look, a clear warning to stay out of it.

"Albus," Alek said with a pretense of patience that I very much doubted was real, "I give us even odds that we're walking into a trap. Hermione's smart and she's good at noticing details. If there's fighting to be done, she can stay in the back, but we could use her tonight, and she's clearly willing. She's also of age, and already fully appraised of the situation."

"She is a student," Albus said, his patience obviously wearing thin, "and we both know that she's had some… difficulties of late. I won't risk her life tonight."

"I agree with Alek," Gideon put in rather forcefully.

"So do I," Fabian added more timidly.

Arthur hesitated a moment before nodding his agreement.

Albus cast his eyes around the gathering, probably concerned for mutiny. Finally, he looked at me. "Hermione, I implore you to not endanger yourself."

"We're at war, Albus," I said with quiet severity, deliberately using his given name for the first time directly to his face. I was a student, but I was not a child. I would not be treated as such. "I won't endanger myself unnecessarily, I promise."

His shoulders slumped slightly in defeat, but by the way his eyes hardened, I was pretty sure he'd like to be cursing aloud.

"I'm going too," Severus said uneasily but with pure steel in his tone that said he wouldn't be denied.

Albus glanced at him, then at me. When he found no help there, he looked at the others, none of whom looked eager to deny anyone who might be able to help. "Someone has to see Mr. Black back up to the infirmary," he finally reasoned. "He's in no shape to be left alone in the forest."

"Alastor can take him," Alek offered.

"I'm not staying here," Alastor argued.

"You're in no condition to come with," Alek rebuked with a soft command.

I glanced at Alastor then and noticed that he was looking rather haggard.

Alastor grumbled, but relented when Albus reluctantly nodded his agreement. I figured Alastor must have been concerned with his ability to light so much as a candle if he was willing to give up that easily. It surprised me that the ritual had tired him so much more than me or Albus. And it gave me a slightly unnerving idea of how much stronger my magic had become. I actually wasn't feeling too badly at all.

"Does everyone know our destination?" Albus asked with an undertone of defeat.

I had an obscene urge to laugh at getting one up on that bastard, but tempered it with the surety that he would find a way to repay me for this little demonstration of independence. Oh well, it couldn't be helped. He needed to know that I would not always bow to his wishes. I just prayed that whatever we were about to get into wasn't too dangerous. I didn't have enough faith in my control to be comfortable with my ability to defend Severus if the need arose.

When everyone had nodded their assent, Albus disapparated. Everyone else followed quickly, Severus grasping my hand to lead me without making it obvious that I wasn't able to take myself.

We appeared on a dark hilltop in a copse of trees overlooking a weathered hut. It was entirely less ominous than I'd been expecting. Not that that meant anything, really.

"Alek, Hermione, east. Gideon, Marlene, west," Albus said quietly motioning us in the direction he wanted, to flank the building.

My hand tightened on Severus' at the same time that he tightened his on mine, and then I released him, trying not to think about the fact that it might be the last time I saw him, and followed Alek.

Once we'd distanced ourselves a few steps from the group, Alek slashed his wand to silence both of our steps. I was glad to be with Alek. After months of working with him individually, I knew him pretty well and was able to judge a lot just by the set of his shoulders and the direction of his eyes. He was on edge.

We moved around the clearing with the cottage at a wide angle to avoid exposing ourselves while we approached the east flank of the house. There were no lights on inside, and I was hoping that this was the right place, but the ritual told me that it had to be. It would only lead us to Molly Weasley, and only if she was still alive, her blood still flowing.

Alek stopped abruptly and motioned for me to do the same. Then he knelt and stared at the ground. I followed his gaze and, after a moment, located the object of his focus. A wardstone. Well, we were probably in the right place. No one would ward the entire clearing around that little shack without a damn good reason.

He pointed his wand back the way we'd come and a brief flash of silver snaked off along the ground. I blinked, then looked at my mentor with a faintly bemused smile. His patronus was actually a snake. How remarkably Slytherin. He smirked in return, then rose and gestured for me to follow again.

We continued all the way around the clearing. When we reached the side directly opposite Albus and the others, Alek crouched again, located another wardstone, and sent off another patronus.

We waited in silence perhaps a minute before a slight rustling of clothing had both of our wands trained on the approach of the second set of scouts. We exchanged nods as we identified each other, then crouched down in the moon shadows to wait.

Less than a minute later, a silvery phoenix alighted in the center of our little group and spoke with Albus' voice. "Gideon, west. Alek, south. Can Hermione take east?"

Alek looked at me. "Can you disable a wardstone without setting off any alarms?" he asked me in a tone that warned against overstating my abilities.

I examined the stone more closely, then nodded. It wasn't that complex if you had a solid understanding of runes and warding. Most wardstones weren't actually meant to be difficult to disarm, since they generally depended on not being located. In this case, all four would have to be disabled simultaneously, which was the difficult part. More permanent wards were set by burying the stones where they would remain, and there were generally a lot more of them.

Alek sent off another patronus, then gestured me toward the eastern stone. My steps still silenced, I set off in that direction alone. While I walked, I examined the fact that Albus would select me for this when he had Minerva and Filius at his disposal, both of whom I was sure were perfectly capable of disabling a wardstone. After some consideration, I decided that they were also probably his strongest fighters. He'd want them ready to attack, and if we tripped some kind of failsafe, or if someone truly was expecting us, this could start before the wards fell.

It made me think that Albus wasn't as optimistic as "even odds" against this being a trap.

When I reached the wardstone, I knelt next to it and drew my journal from the pocket in which I always kept it on me now.

-Ready.-

A few moments later, a silver phoenix was perched at my side. "Begin in five, four, three, two, one, now."

I held my hands just above the stone, drew on my magic, and felt out the magic surrounding the stone. When the countdown ended, I worked my magic into the spaces of the knotted web forming the ward, and sliding it directly into the knots. When I felt like I'd found all of them, I drew more deeply on my magic, sending a surge down the paths I'd already delineated, and snapping each knot simultaneously, causing the wards to fall apart around it.

I opened my eyes just in time to see a brilliant red curse flying at my face.

My training kicked in and I flung myself into a roll, drawing my wand along the way. I came out of the roll onto my knees, my wand focused in the direction that the curse had come from, and was not terribly surprised to find myself facing a masked Death Eater. "_Stupefy_!" I cast instinctively. Not surprisingly, the spell faltered halfway there.

Fighting the urge to scream in fear and frustration, I scooped up a fist-sized rock with my left hand and chucked it at the Death Eater, and for lack of a better option, charged.

Most witches and wizards never even contemplated closing to melee range in a fight, which made the tactic highly useful – which, in turn, had made it a part of my training. I was no Bruce Lee by any stretch of the imagination, but I did have a solid grasp on street fighting type tactics. It was brutal, dirty, and without any polite restrictions.

I hit the shocked Death Eater shoulder to gut, and felt him actually leave the ground for a moment before I sent him down flat on his back. I rolled out of the fall to find myself in arm's reach of his wand, which I quickly snatched up. In a moment of blind inspiration, I wondered if a different wand might suit my new magic better, so I tried another stupefy, this time with the Death Eater's wand.

It reacted almost exactly the same as my own wand. At this range, it hit hard enough that he probably felt it, but I doubted that it was much more than mildly uncomfortable by his slight grunt. With a quiet growl, I took two quick steps forward and slammed my heel into his face as hard as I could as he was attempting to rise. His nose _shattered_ in a spray of blood, and he went down in a boneless heap. I took a moment to make sure he wasn't going to get back up, then crouched and scanned my surroundings, trying to estimate how much time had passed between taking out the wardstone and now. Ten seconds, maybe?

I could hear sounds of combat elsewhere in the clearing, and the brief, varied illumination of spells, but nothing was too close to me. Severus was as safe as he could be surrounded by Albus and most everyone else, but if I knew him, he was going to try to find me, so I set off in that direction, keeping as low as I could. I tucked the second wand into my pocket and kept mine in hand, for all the good it had done in the last fight.

All that endurance training was coming in handy now as I moved across the uneven terrain in the dark, half crouched, as quickly as possible with perfect ease.

A shadow came into view moving toward me, and I took a few quick steps toward the tree line and dropped into the lowest possible crouch, ceasing all movement to help me blend in with my inanimate surroundings as I watched the shadow draw closer. When it was about two meters away, I was able to identify him.

"Severus!" I hissed quietly.

He spun on me, wand leading, but didn't attack. "Hermione?" he asked warily.

"Yes," I answered before I moved.

He started when I shifted to stand, but quickly relaxed as I approached. I grabbed his arm and urged him to squat so we'd be less noticeable.

"Are you all right?" he whispered.

"Yes," I assured him. "What's happening?"

"It was a trap," he replied shortly. "As soon as Dumbledore started on the wardstone, they came out of everywhere."

"I met one," I nodded.

His left hand rose to my shoulder, then the side of my face, as though to reassure himself that I was okay.

"How many were there?"

"I don't know," he answered, which was a harsh reminder of how much training he still needed.

"Estimate," I implored.

He was silent for a moment before offering, "Maybe two dozen."

"Damn," I cursed quietly. "Let's get over there."

"You said you wouldn't put yourself in danger," he reminded me warily. "Your magic…"

"I know," I grumbled. "We'll stay out of it if we can, but I won't let anyone die if I can help it. If nothing else, we can try to make a distraction, or enervate someone who gets knocked out. Come on." I tugged lightly on his arm and got him following me around the edge of the clearing.

We'd gone less than a hundred meters when I became aware of his heavy breathing. "Now you see why I run," I said quietly.

"Yeah," he huffed in return.

The primary fight, we quickly found, was still going strong. Minerva was proving that she was not to be underestimated, and Filius was an absolutely terrifying duelist. As they'd both trained me in my own time, I was well acquainted with their fighting styles, so I took up a post behind them while I motioned Severus toward the other side of the fight. "Wake or extract anyone who goes down. If they're in serious danger, apparate them back to Hogwarts," I instructed quickly.

He gave me a look that telegraphed his desire to remain at my side, but hesitated only a moment before complying.

Severus' estimate of bad guys, I noted, had been on the low side, or more had shown up since he'd come looking for me. Minerva and Filius stood side by side against ten Death Eaters. Albus was facing nine by himself, with five bodies already on the ground around him – and it was clear that he wasn't at his best after that ritual. Fabian and Arthur were back to back against five or six Death Eaters over by Severus, and they were clearly struggling. I watched as Severus enervated Arthur before he'd even hit the ground and silently cheered before turning my attention back to my two professors.

I was hesitant to do anything much more than watch and assist if absolutely necessary lest my disgraceful attempt at spellcasting prove a distraction to my own side.

Then a stunner and a slicing hex hit Minerva simultaneously, and she went down. Filius was facing eight alone, and there was no way that he could defend himself and Minerva. With determination, I drew heavily on my magic and didn't try to form it into a delicate spell. Instead, I chose a blasting curse, and just threw as much into it as I could, hoping to force out one of my overly effective spells.

There was an utter lack of finesse, but the tactic worked against the clump of Death Eaters. With a crack like thunder and a bomb-like explosion, two Death Eaters rather ceased to be, three more were blown away in multiple pieces, and the next closest two were just thrown. Filius managed to get a shield up to save himself from being knocked down, and quickly dispatched the last Death Eater in the immediate area with an _expelliarmus, stupefy, incarcerus_ combination. He then turned and looked at me.

I grimaced in reply, a bit shell-shocked by the destruction I had just sown, and the at least five more Death Eaters to add to my body count.

Filius spared me only a glance before using a simple battlefield healing spell to heal Minerva. It wouldn't be excessively pretty, but it would keep her alive. He enervated her then, which told me that she wasn't too badly injured.

They moved to assist the others, and I was just starting to think that this was going to work out okay. I really should have learned better by now than to tempt Fate with thoughts like that.

More than anything else, I _felt _the presence behind me, and spun around to find myself staring down the length of a yew wand. My eyes followed it up the arm to a pair of burning red eyes.

With an internal scream of pure terror, my left arm rose to knock aside the arm holding me at wandpoint, and I tackled Lord Voldemort. I fought like a cornered animal, kicking, punching, elbowing, biting, pulling hair, and then I was being squeezed through a narrow tube in crushing darkness.

I rolled away from Voldemort as we arrived wherever the hell he'd taken us, took in my surroundings at a glance, noting that we seemed to be in a sparsely furnished cave of some sort, and then I was running out the nearest exit. I fled around blind corners, part of me recognizing that it was probably a good thing most of the Death Eaters were in that clearing instead of in what I could only assume was Voldemort's headquarters.

I had to backtrack twice when I found myself sprinting into a dead end room, but Voldemort didn't seem to be following too closely if at all. Maybe one of my hits had done enough damage that he wasn't quite up to chasing after me.

Finally, _finally _I saw the exit, an open cave mouth leading into the moonlit night. I was literally two steps from freedom when a spell tripped me. I managed to semi-control the fall, landing painfully on my shoulder, but rolling back to my feet without too much difficulty. I trained my wand on none other than Voldemort himself. He looked really angry.

"Who are you?" he snarled.

"No one of consequence," I said quickly, with an inadvisable amount of cheek that I didn't seem able to control. No wonder Harry had always mouthed off when he'd faced the Dark Lord. It was that or dissolve into a gibbering fit of pointless pleas for mercy. This man was freaking terrifying. "Just one of Albus' little minions." I took a small step back.

Blood red eyes narrowed. His mouth opened and his wand twitched.

I tensed.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

My life flashed before my eyes as I watched sickly green death shoot toward my face. My childhood among the muggles before I'd ever heard that magic might exist in fact. My first six years of Hogwarts getting up to untold mischief and mayhem with Harry and Ron. The last few months in the past, becoming Slytherin, falling in love with Severus, tactical sparring with Albus, training with Alek and Alastor…

And I just managed to yank myself back far enough that I could watch the spell very nearly graze my nose. Then I was sprinting out into the darkness. On the sixth step, the ground went out from under me and I had time to contemplate the fact that I was falling off a cliff into what I hoped was nice deep water. I took a gulp of air, and then I was encased in salt water.

I identified up from down as quickly as I could, shucked my robe before it drowned me, and started swimming laterally along the cliff face as quickly as I could, not wanting to surface directly beneath in case Voldemort was waiting to throw another Avada at me.

* * *

**~.~.{S.*.S}.~.~**

The last Death Eater apparated away and the clearing went chillingly silent for a moment as everyone scanned for a further threat. Then, slowly, the downed Death Eaters were bound and relieved of wands. It looked like only one Order member was still down, and Marlene quickly apparated away with him, presumably to the infirmary.

I started looking for Hermione, quickly growing more uneasy when I realized that she wasn't among the others standing in the clearing. When I'd circled the group twice without finding her, I headed for Alek, who was speaking quietly with Dumbledore.

"I can't find Hermione," I said, interrupting whatever they'd been discussing.

They both looked at me. Both looked concerned as they turned their eyes outward.

The search was brief and unhelpful as it was quickly confirmed that she did not seem to be in the area. When Alek's Point Me didn't work, we all realized that she wasn't within the roughly three kilometer range of that spell. I drew on my limited Occlumency shields to keep myself from hyperventilating, or something unhelpful like that.

Dumbledore finally drew out his journal and tapped his wand on a page before closing it again.

A couple minutes passed without a response, and Dumbledore rather reluctantly began organizing the group to go into the shack and try to find Molly. I wanted to scream that we needed to find Hermione, but I figured the Prewett brothers and Mr. Weasley might curse me.

With a silent groan, I let them worry about Molly, and I paced the vicinity of the fight while my mind examined every horrible thing that might have happened to her. The Point Me wouldn't have worked if she was dead, after all. Or she could have been apparated or portkeyed away by a Death Eater at some point.

I was right on the point of going back to Hogwarts to see if she'd managed to apparate herself back to the infirmary, when there was a crack right behind me. I spun to find myself facing a sopping wet Hermione standing in a puddle.

My breath caught and I all but leapt on her, wrapping my arms around her and fully planning to never let go of her again. She was gasping as though she'd been holding her breath, and I finally comprehended the fact that she was soaking wet and standing in a puddle.

"What happened?" I asked without letting go. "Are you hurt?"

"No," she coughed. "Just wet. And I lost my wand. And the journal. Where's Albus? I need to talk to him," she said, but she was holding me just as tightly.

"I'm here, child," Dumbledore's voice suddenly alerted me to the fact that we weren't alone.

Reluctantly, I drew away from Hermione, though I snatched one of her hands and held it tightly as we turned to face the headmaster and Alek. Everyone else seemed to be over at the shack.

Hermione coughed again. "Could you make my ears stop wringing?"

He nodded, drew his journal from a robe pocket, and tapped the cover with his wand.

"Thanks," she said briefly, then took a deep breath, and started, "Voldemort was here."

Dumbledore's eyes widened a bit. "Tell me what happened, Hermione," he coaxed gently.

"I was standing away from the fight, trying to just wait to help if I was needed. Then I saw Minerva go down, so I…" she cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I sent a _reducto_ at the Death Eaters she was facing. It… It came out rather strong."

He nodded as though he'd heard this part already.

She nodded too. "Anyway, when Filius and Minerva turned to help you, I realized that there was someone behind me, and I turned around, and… He was right there. With his wand pointed at my face."

I swallowed hard, shocked and horrified, and hating myself for leaving her side tonight, regardless of the fact that she'd told me to do so.

"I just reacted," she admitted. "I knocked his wand away and I leapt on him. He disapparated, and I got pulled along. We came out in what I think is his headquarters. It's in a cave overlooking the sea. I managed to get out and I jumped in the water. I swam a bit, but he shot spells at me every time I tried to come up for air, so I disapparated under the water."

My eyes widened further. Holy sodding Hades!

"I'm not sure when I lost my wand. Probably when we arrived there. I lost my journal when I took off my robe in the water. If you can track it, you can probably get pretty close to his base."

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight at that possibility. "Mr. Snape, take her back to the Hogwarts infirmary."

"Sir," Hermione called quickly. "Is Molly okay?"

He smiled a little and nodded. "She and her babies should be fine, but she's on her way to St. Mungo's just to be sure."

Hermione sagged a little with relief, and nodded, then turned to wrap her arms around me. "Take me home, love," she whispered in my ear, and I happily complied.

* * *

**Well, that's chapter two. Up next, a trip to Ollivander's! Please note that chapter 3 is not written yet, but I will do my best to have it up within a week.**

**I absolutely love getting reviews. I'm just saying. No. I'm not hinting at anything at all… ;-)**


	3. Willow and Amaranth

**Author's Note:** Okay, I know I made you wait for this, so I made it extra long. Just for you. ;-)

As always, huge thanks go to **bluefirefly5** for her brilliant beta skills. Her encouragement and consistent prodding has not only made this story better, but gotten it to you in a more timely matter. A round of applause, please...

* * *

**Old Magic**

**Chapter III: Willow and Amaranth**

* * *

**~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~**

**26 November 1977 - Saturday**

I woke warm, obscenely comfortable, and surrounded by the scent that was distinctly Severus. I smiled involuntarily and burrowed myself a little deeper into his warmth. His arms tightened around me and he sighed but didn't wake. I turned my face toward his and took advantage of the moment to appreciate how peaceful he looked with his face softened in sleep. It still hurt to think about everything I'd left behind in my own time, but being here with Severus made it more than merely worth it. I knew that if I had the opportunity now to return… I couldn't do it.

His eyelids fluttered briefly and then drew back to reveal those bottomless black eyes that I loved so much. He squinted a little at me, and then a small smile turned his lips. "G'morning," he muttered.

"Morning, love," I replied.

He lifted one hand to trace his fingers lightly down the side of my face. "You look happy," he noted quietly.

"It's hard not to be when I wake up next to you," I admitted.

A faint blush touched his cheeks and he leaned forward to press his lips to my forehead. When he withdrew, it was to extract his wand from under his pillow. He cast a quick cleansing charm on his mouth, then tipped his wand toward me and lifted his brow. When I nodded, he repeated the charm on me. "That's better," he smiled, returning his wand to where he'd found it, then rolling toward me to immediately capture my lips with his.

I sighed with pleasure and relaxed into his hold. His tongue explored my mouth at a leisurely pace, and I returned the favor.

Until the clock next to the bed began to play its symphony of bells.

I groaned unhappily. It was absolutely cruel to be expected to ever leave my bed when Severus was in it.

He collapsed back on his pillow with a sigh. After a moment, he turned his face toward me. "How are you feeling?" he asked quietly.

I knew that he was still feeling concerned about last night. Poppy had checked us both over when we'd returned from the ordeal with Molly. Apart from being chilled by my swim and subsequent time outside, neither of us had had more than a few scrapes and bruises, and we'd been allowed to leave after just a few minutes. Personally, I thought Poppy was presently much more mild than the version I'd known in my time.

"Severus, I'm fine," I said gently.

He frowned at me, "Hermione, last night, the… _Voldemort _apparated you to his headquarters and almost killed you," he said plaintively.

I couldn't help but smile a little at his use of the name. He'd gotten a lot better at hearing me say it, but this was the first time he'd done so. I made the effort to focus on the rest of what he'd said. "I know, love," I nodded, sobering as I spoke. "It's not the first time I've been in a near-death situation, and it won't be the last."

He got a stubborn look on his face.

I sighed and leaned up on my elbow to kiss him softly. "I know that it isn't easy, Severus," I admitted when I withdrew to look into those gorgeous eyes. "Believe me, it makes me crazy to think about you being in danger, but there's nothing we can do about that. We can minimize the danger by training hard and always being prepared for anything, but we can't avoid it completely. Not until that monster is dead."

He grimaced faintly and turned his face toward the ceiling, which was currently streaked pink with the sunrise. "We should get to breakfast," he said after a moment.

I bit my lip as I nodded, trying not to cringe at his letting the subject drop so abruptly. I had the feeling that he didn't want to agree, but couldn't figure out how to disagree either. I rolled out my side of the bed while he sat up on his.

"Hermione…" I heard him say, his tone a bit strange.

I turned to look at him curiously and followed his gaze to the wall on his side. Between the foot of the bed and the wardrobe, there was… a door. I blinked at it, then turned to look at the door to the hall toward the common room, which was still right where it should be. I could only shrug in response to the questioning look he turned on me.

After staring for a moment more, Severus got up and approached the new door, his wand in hand. I moved around the bed to join him as he reached for the knob and drew it slowly open.

My jaw dropped at the room that was revealed.

Severus hesitated briefly before stepping through into the small room. I followed, noting the chest at the foot of the bed. It was a little beaten, but the silver plate on the front clearly displayed the double S of his initials. A laugh bubbled up my throat as I took in the fact that my room was evidently now connected to his.

He turned bewildered eyes on me. "How…?"

I shrugged helplessly, gazing back through the door into my room. "I think the castle may be trying to tell us something," I admitted with a smirk.

"The castle…" he said flatly.

"You don't mind, do you?" I asked knowingly, moving to twine my arms around his waist.

His lips curled into a bemused smile as he looked down at me. "Why would the castle connect our rooms?"

"Maybe it was because of what we did yesterday," I mused. "Using your magic to stabilize mine. Maybe the castle noticed that and recognized us as a couple."

"Is it really that sentient?" he wondered. "I thought it was more limited to just providing for the students and staff. Knowing how many rooms were needed and such."

I shook my head, "I've always thought it was a bit more. This might be proof."

He nodded distractedly.

I leaned up to kiss him briefly, then extracted myself from his arms regretfully. "We should get dressed," I suggested, heading toward the door to my room. I really hoped it would stay there. I kind of loved the idea of adjoining rooms. And being able to go back and forth without anyone else in Slytherin being the wiser.

Interestingly, I couldn't feel either of our wards as I passed through the door. Our rooms were in no way protected from each other. I liked that too.

* * *

**~.~.{S.*.S}.~.~**

After breakfast, I joined Hermione in going to Diagon Alley, since she now needed a new wand. We walked out passed the gates together and I took her hand to apparate us both. Despite her life-saving apparation last night, she still didn't feel comfortable trying to do it herself if she could avoid it.

When we reached the wandmaker's shop, Hermione hesitated with her hand on the handle. She glanced back at me, her expression pensive.

"What is it?" I asked cautiously.

Her teeth worried her lower lip for a moment. "I was just thinking…" she admitted quietly. "Ollivander. He always seems to know more than he should, doesn't he?"

My eyes widened as I realized what she meant. "You don't think he'd tell anyone, do you?"

She considered it a moment, then shook her head, "I don't think so, but… I'm not entirely sure that he even realizes how absurd some of the things he says are." She was quiet for a moment, then deliberately shook herself. "Well, there's nothing for it," she declared briskly, and entered the shop.

I followed closely behind, now stuck with something between worry and vapid curiosity at just what might be said that she was so worried about. It still kept me up some nights, wondering exactly what it was that made her history so dangerous – and when she might ever feel comfortable confiding in me about it. It came down to the fact that I trusted her, of course. She would tell me when she felt that she could.

Though that would not stop me from avidly snatching up any detail that might slip…

The old wandmaker appeared from the back shortly after I'd pushed the door to, and he glanced at me, "Birch and unicorn hair, 13 ¼ inches, quite rigid. Excellent for healing and protection spells."

I sneered slightly in response. It always made me feel dreadfully… Gryffindor, when he went on about healing and protection spells, like I was running around saving people every chance I could get. I had a reputation, after all. At least no one except Hermione was here to hear it.

Then those ancient eyes settled on Hermione. And narrowed. "You… I have never met," he said thoughtfully.

I blinked, but Hermione wasn't looking at me – rather studiously not looking at me, actually. I'd always assumed that she'd gotten her wand here when she was eleven, like virtually every other witch and wizard in Britain. Maybe she'd had a relative's wand? Or they'd taken a trip back to Australia to go where the family traditionally got their wands?

"Hermione Wilkins," she smiled tightly. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ollivander. I'm in need of a new wand."

He stared at her for a long moment, his expression assessing and avidly curious. "Well, let us see what we can find…" he murmured after a moment and tottered back into the towering shelves.

We waited for his return in silence. I wasn't sure what to say, and she didn't seem any more inclined to conversation.

After several minutes, Ollivander returned with a dozen boxes hovering along behind him. He lined them up on the counter and opened them one by one, eyeing Hermione with what might have been trepidation tempering his clear excitement. "Now, just touch them," he warned sternly. "Don't pick them up unless I tell you to do so."

I frowned. This certainly wasn't the way I'd found my own wand. I wondered why she wasn't meant to pick them up.

She nodded and moved to the end of the line of boxes, reaching down to touch the first wand carefully.

The process was overall, underwhelming. She touched each wand in turn with no obvious reaction at all. She flinched slightly a couple times, so I figured she might have been feeling something. And watching Ollivander's face, he seemed to be seeing something that I couldn't.

When she'd finished, Ollivander frowned in concentration for a moment, then chose a wand near the middle and hesitated briefly before presenting it to her handle first.

She eyed him briefly, then carefully took the wand. Her fingers had barely closed around it when Ollivander snatched it away again. "No. Definitely not," he muttered. He returned it to its box and waved his own wand to close all the boxes, which then leapt into the air and followed him back into the shelves.

"What did you feel?" I asked quietly.

She shook her head as though it was difficult to explain. "From most of them… nothing. One felt like it stung me. One actually felt like it was recoiling from my touch. The one I held felt… Angry?"

I blinked at that. "Angry?"

She shrugged as though it had confused her just as much.

Thrice more Ollivander brought wands to Hermione, and the process continued much as it had the first time. Wand after wand after wand was summarily touched and dismissed. Two more, Ollivander asked her to hold, then snatched them back almost before she'd done so. My feet were beginning to ache from standing still for so long, and I found myself trying to estimate how long we'd been at this without looking at my watch, which seemed like it might be a little rude to Hermione. She was beginning to look rather frustrated with this entire thing.

Finally, Ollivander laid his hands flat on the counter, leaned his weight against them, and just stared at Hermione as though he was trying to identify one last elusive puzzle piece that would solve the mystery of what wand she needed. After a long moment, his eyes narrowed and took on a bit of a speculative gleam.

Hermione stared back at him without fidgeting, though her stare was starting to look a bit like a defiant glare.

After at least ten minutes of silent staring, Ollivander shook his head, then nodded vaguely as though he was having a silent argument with himself. Finally, he muttered something that sounded a lot like "why not?", and retreated back into the shelves once more.

Hermione heaved a heavy sigh once we were alone and crossed the few steps between us to wrap her arms around my waist and lean her head on my chest wearily. I closed my arms around her and savored the sensation of holding her in my arms, as I always did. I could never seem to get used to these demonstrations of affection, but I rather hoped I never would. The risk of taking them for granted would be too high.

She drew away from me as we heard the shuffling step of the wandmaker approaching the front of the shop again, and we both turned to see him emerge from the shelves with a black-lacquered wooden box clutched between his hands carefully. He placed it on the counter and stared at it mutely for a long moment. Then he stared at Hermione some more.

I glanced at Hermione, but she seemed entirely focused on Ollivander, as though she was exerting as much effort to understand him as he was her.

After several minutes of alternating his gaze between Hermione and the box, Ollivander settled on the box again, took a breath that looked disturbingly… bracing, and turned it around so that the small silver latch was facing her. I blinked at it when I noticed that it was in the form of a small, coiled snake.

Ollivander carefully freed the latch, and opened it with trepidation.

My eyes widened as the wand was revealed. Settled into a bed of emerald green velvet, was the most stunning wand I'd ever seen. The wood was two colors. It was very pale, almost white, inset with a wide, serpentine strip of a rich, purple wood that I recognized as amaranth, which completed one full turn around the wand from the tip to the intricately carved handle. The snake theme was continued on the grip, which ended in a small curve where a snake head was carved, the eyes inset with small emeralds.

* * *

**~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~**

My breath caught as Ollivander opened the ebony box. The wand was… stunning, but that was the least part of what caught my attention. That wand _sang _with power, and the instant the box was opened, I could feel my own magic humming inside me, rising instinctively toward the call of that powerful conduit.

"Just the lightest touch," Ollivander's quiet voice brought me to my senses enough to realize that I'd been reaching for it.

I glanced at him nervously. _What makes this wand so much different from all the others?_ I wondered. It was possible that it was only different to me because it responded to my magic – or my magic responded to _it_… But I knew that couldn't be all of it. I could plainly see that this wand was crafted of two different types of wood, which was something I'd never even heard of before. Well, there was that and the fact that Ollivander was very obviously treating this wand differently than any of the others. Even the ornamentation of the box screamed that it was unique and special.

I wanted to ask him questions before I touched it, but I didn't get the sense that he'd answer them. So I steeled my resolve and very carefully extended just one finger with which to touch the wand, despite the almost overwhelming eagerness rushing through me, the urge to pick it up and cast, and feel my magic flowing through it…

My finger touched the wand with just the very tip, and my thoughts promptly became unimportant. My magic stirred like a tempest within me, and the cool wood of the wand almost seemed to vibrate in response.

My fingers pressed into it more firmly, almost desperate to know what more contact would feel like.

It was everything I could have hoped and more. My magic hissed and crackled, and the emerald eyes at the base of the grip seemed to glow from within. I think I even heard it hiss at me, but it was impossible to tell with all the _noise _going on in my head.

The wand was in my hand before I'd realized the intent to pick it up, but that thought was gone as quickly as it had come. The wand absolutely _throbbed _with power, and my magic rose enthusiastically to meet it.

It wasn't until I felt Severus that I realized just how deeply I was drawing on my magic. His magic was touching mine with the lightest caress. I sighed at the sensation, and embraced his magic while I worked to back off on my draw without destroying the shop. My magic began to settle slowly and I became aware of the fact that Severus was standing flush against my back, his arms wrapped around my waist, his cheek pressed gently against my temple.

When I finally felt completely in control, I reluctantly withdrew my magic from his and he reciprocated by gently breaking the connection.

I took a deep breath and focused on the wand still in my hand.

"Wow," was absolutely the only thing I could think to say.

"What does it feel like," Severus asked softly.

I shook my head, trying to summon words capable of encompassing even a fraction of what I'd just felt. What I was _still _feeling from this amazing wand. "It… It calls to my magic," I started. "It _wants _me to cast with it. It feels like… power."

I lifted my eyes to Ollivander, who was approaching the counter, though I wasn't sure when he'd moved away from it.

"Thirteen inches," he said quietly, eyeing the wand, "Amaranth and Willow with a basilisk plume core."

I frowned at him. "Basilisk plume. But what about the three Supreme Cores?" Come to think of it though, that actually did sound right. The wild, unrestrained power of the wand was something I could equate to a basilisk.

"The Supreme Cores were my revelation, Miss Wilkins," Ollivander said with a faint smile. "This wand predates me. It was, in fact, crafted by one of my ancestors in the tenth century. It is the only wand ever known to possess a basilisk plume core, as slaying a basilisk is a nigh impossible task."

That brought a faint smile to my lips, as I did happen to know someone who'd slain a basilisk – when he was twelve. Of course, Harry defied convention by rote, so that wasn't so surprising. I pushed that thought away before it could start to make me feel homesick again. This was my home now.

I refocused my thoughts on what Ollivander had said, and frowned. "This wand has been in your family for a thousand years? Has it never had a master before?"

He shook his head, "That story is actually rather curious…" he said thoughtfully. "According to family lore, Salazar Slytherin himself commissioned that wand, constructed to exacting specifications. But he did not want the wand for himself. Indeed, he wished for it to stay with my ancestor, to be passed through our family until it was claimed."

"Salazar…" I breathed in disbelief, noting from my peripheral that Severus had just snapped his lolling jaw closed.

Ollivander did not seem to note our awe at his revelation as he still appeared deep in thought. "Only twice before have I offered that wand to a customer. Both times it reacted rather… violently at the slightest touch. I did not believe I would live to see it find its master." He was studying me again. "I wonder if it was always meant for you…"

I knew that I'd gone terribly pale at that, but I couldn't help it. What he was suggesting sounded disturbingly like a prophecy or something. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with any prophecy. I'd already watched one destroy the life of my best friend. "That's not possible," I asserted as strongly as I could manage. "For that to have happened so long ago…" I shook my head stubbornly. "You're talking about divination," I said with as much distrust as I felt for the foul subject.

Ollivander tilted his head at me as though that angle might make me easier to figure out. "Perhaps," he said mildly. "But that is not the only way to know the future, is it?"

He knew. I could see it in his curious, amused, creepy eyes. He absolutely knew that I was from the future. I could only think that he could see something in my magic. It was my theory that he saw auras that allowed him to know so much that he shouldn't, but also gave him the ability to pair a witch or wizard with the best wand. Not that the how or why mattered much to me right now.

"How much do I owe you, Mr. Ollivander?" I asked brightly, eager to get out of the shop before he spilled all of my secrets.

Ollivander blinked several times as though he'd forgotten that I had a purpose in his shop besides chatting. "Nothing, Miss Wilkins," he said at last. "Slytherin paid for the wand when it was commissioned. My family has merely been holding it in trust for its rightful master."

I blinked at him again, but didn't let my mind explore that at the moment. I needed to get out of that shop, not invite further conversation. "I see," I nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."

I slid the wand into my wrist sheath as I left the shop, distantly enjoying how _right _it felt there, while my mind turned around and around the almost incomprehensible concept that my new wand had been commissioned andpaid for by Salazar Slytherin.

_Slytherin_.

* * *

**~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~**

"_Stupefy_!"

My magic responded to my intent more urgently than it had… maybe ever, surging up and launching itself down my arm. As it passed through that wondrous wand, it condensed from a stream into a beam and left my wand with almost physical force that sent a shiver down my spine.

The dummy that I'd been aiming at was struck center mass. A wrecking ball probably would have hit with less force. The dummy slammed into the wall behind it with an ear piercing collision, and the dummies to either side of it were hurled randomly away.

After staring for a moment, my eyes fell to my wand. I almost expected to see the tip smoking, but of course, it wasn't. The emeralds were glowing a poisonous green though.

"Were you trying to do that?" Severus' slightly breathless voice asked from a few paces behind me.

I shook my head, "That was meant to be an ordinary stunner," I admitted.

"That's impressive," he muttered quietly.

"It's bloody annoying," I corrected irritably. "If I'm trying to kill people, it's great. If I don't want anyone to die, I'm almost helpless." I glanced over my shoulder and saw him nod his concession to my argument, though he was still staring at the dummy that had been crushed by the impact with the wall, and way lying on the floor in several pieces.

"Is it the wand or your magic?" he asked curiously, looking at me again.

"Both," I admitted. "I still can't properly focus my magic. The wand is focusing what I put into it, but it's also amplifying it." That wasn't quite accurate, but it was the best I could explain it at the moment. "I still don't know how to properly control it," I grimaced. I'd really hoped that this wand that responded so strongly to me might be the answer to all my problems with my magic. I really should have known better. Since when was my life that easy?

After a moment of thought, I reached into the small bag that I kept disillusioned on my waist. It held my money, spare clothes, a tent, and everything that I wouldn't want to do without if I was, say, mysteriously transported to a different time while I was sleeping. Not that I planned on touching Fawkes' tears again unless I was dying.

I found the wand that I'd taken from that Death Eater last night. After returning my wand to my wrist sheath, I pointed the other at the target. "Stupefy!" I tried again.

I paid careful attention as my magic rose within me and shot down my arm into the wand. Rather than being condensed into a laser-like beam, the poorly focused magic seemed to fragment further. I observed as it left the wand, struggled to form itself into the spell, but didn't quite get there. It fell apart shortly after leaving the wand.

Despite the failed casting, I felt a thrill of excitement at having finally noticed that. I'd seen the same happen with my old wand, but without the comparison to a wand that actually worked, I hadn't been able to understand exactly how and why it was going wrong. Finally, I had something that I could work with. A problem that I could start to understand and try to remedy.

A ringing in my ears shattered my moment of distracted excitement and I sighed as I retrieved the journal from my shoulder bag.

Albus had been waiting for us when we'd returned from Diagon Alley, and we'd gone directly to his office, where he'd presented me with a new journal, identical to the old, and bonded it to me as he'd done the first. I'd tried to ask him more about the fallout from last night, but he'd told me only that Molly had been released from St. Mungo's this morning, and that everything else would be addressed at the impromptu Order meeting that had been scheduled for after lunch.

I opened the journal and frowned at the brief message I encountered there.

_-Come to my office right away. Alone, please.-_

_What now? _I wondered uncharitably, forcing away the quiver of fear at the thought that he might have some bad news to share. Perhaps there had been another attack against Order members? No, speculating would do nothing but rouse panic that may be entirely unfounded. After all, this was Albus. It was entirely possible that he simply wanted my opinion on an assignment he was planning for someone. If it in any way involved my knowledge of the future, he wouldn't want Severus tagging along, and most of what Albus wanted with me had to do with that knowledge.

So, irritated at being forced to stop my practice right when I felt like I was making progress, I bid a quick goodbye to Severus and made my way to Albus' office. He called me inside before I could knock, and I opened the door to find Regulus seated in one of the chairs in front of the desk. I glanced around casually to be sure that no one else was present, then firmly closed the door behind me.

"Have a seat," Albus said with a pleasant smile.

I took the chair, offering a nod to Regulus, who was looking a little green. "Is everything okay?" I asked Albus cautiously, firming my Occlumency shields to the extent of my ability.

"Mr. Black asked that you be here," Albus explained mildly.

I glanced at Reg again. He was fighting a blush now, and not looking at me. "Okay," I replied casually, as though this sort of thing happened every day.

"Wonderful," Albus smiled warmly, turning his focus back to Regulus. "Now, Mr. Black, are you ready to begin?"

Regulus shifted uncomfortably in his chair, then glanced over at me. "He wants to Obliviate me," he mumbled.

I blinked, then looked at Albus. "Why?" I asked neutrally. It really wouldn't do for either of these two to think I was taking sides just yet.

"The ritual last night drew on Voldemort's magic through Mr. Black's dark mark," Albus explained, the picture of absolute patience as he ignored Reg's flinch at the name. "He will have felt it. I expect Mr. Black to be summoned tonight. He will most likely be subjected to Legilimency. Obviously, it cannot be discovered that he willingly participated in the ritual. Voldemort will doubtless discover the Obliviation, and assume that he was somehow compelled to take part against his will. It is the sort of thing he would do."

_It's the sort of thing you would do too if you ever failed to manipulate someone, _I didn't voice. "That makes sense," was what I did say. I glanced at Regulus to find him watching me closely. And I realized that he hadn't asked me here to defend him, but to give a second opinion. He trusted me more than Albus.

Well, maybe that wasn't so surprising. Albus had never demonstrated that he cared anything for Slytherins, and I was one as well as Reg's recruiter. And I'd gone out of my way to offer him small shows of support. Still, regardless of how much sense it made, it also heightened the feeling of responsibility that I had toward the younger Black. He trusted me. That meant that it was even more important for me to live up to that trust.

Albus' argument did make sense. Clearly, Regulus wouldn't be able to go before Voldemort with his memories of the ritual intact. That didn't mean that I liked this situation. Not least because it was clear that he'd not mentioned anything about this necessity to Regulus prior to the ritual.

"I take it you weren't able to come to an agreement before the ritual," I ventured innocently.

Albus sighed in a convincing parody of regret. "Unfortunately, no. There was not time before the ritual."

I nodded as though it made sense that he hadn't been able to spare fifteen minutes to warn Reg that he would be rewarded for his help by having his memory tampered with and facing the agony of Voldemort's Legilimency. "I see," I murmured thoughtfully. "Well, I agree that something has to be done," I noted. "Is there any other option? An Occlumency potion, maybe?"

Albus' white brow rose, "I'm unfamiliar with that potion."

Which meant that it hadn't been invented yet. Damn. Severus had probably invented it, knowing him. I'd have to discuss the possibility with Severus later. Clearly, it wouldn't be an option viable today. "I'll look into finding that recipe for the future," I offered.

Albus nodded in response, though his eyes were practically glittering with greed to get his hands on it.

"I assume that you're making arrangements for Regulus to study Occlumency so that this won't be a problem in the future?" I said as though I would never doubt such a thing.

"Yes, of course," Albus agreed in such a way that I knew he hadn't.

I sighed. There were other options for altering memories without erasing them, but I wouldn't risk any of them for this. Without any foundation of Occlumency skill, and considering the Legilimens was Voldemort, the chance was too high that he would penetrate them. "Unfortunately, Reg, I don't think that we have much choice today."

His shoulders sagged in disappointment, but he nodded after a moment's hesitation.

I placed my hand on his wrist and gave it a light squeeze, prompting him to look at me again. "It won't always be this way," I promised. "Once you get a solid grasp on Occlumency, there will be other options. And I will look into getting you that potion, which will help to speed the process as well."

He swallowed, and nodded. At least he looked a little less defeated.

"And he will be getting his memories back after the Dark Lord has searched his mind," I said to Albus, adding just enough of a lift to the end to make it half question rather than pure demand.

"Of course," Albus twinkled beneficently.

"You'll be doing it after the Order meeting, right?" I asked, "Since he wouldn't otherwise be able to participate."

"Of course," the twinkle dimmed.

I fought the urge to grin at him. I knew I was pushing my luck by manipulating Albus as I had through this conversation, but the old man seemed oddly willing to allow it. I'd have to give some thought to why that might be.

I left the office with Regulus, who offered a mumbled, "Thanks, Hermione," before heading off on his own.

I sighed after him, wondering what more I might be able to do to make his life more bearable. I was incredibly grateful that it wasn't Severus going through this, but that didn't mean I was happy that anyone had to do it. We did need a spy though. I hated it, but for now, all I could do was shield Reg from Albus' machinations as much as possible.

Still frowning, I headed for the Great Hall. It was lunch time now. I wouldn't get any more practice before the meeting.

* * *

**~.~.{S.*.S}.~.~**

"Now that everyone is here, let's get started," Albus called to the room, prompting everyone who hadn't done so already to claim a seat. Regulus, I couldn't help but notice, was looking unusually pale today. Not that I blamed him. I wouldn't be very happy to find out that I was going to be Obliviated. Hermione had _not _been in a good mood when she'd joined me at lunch.

Sirius was sneaking frequent, concerned glances at his brother. I didn't think they were on speaking terms yet, but I suspected that Sirius wanted to be. It was almost decent of him, really, which was the last thing I'd have expected from the elder Black.

Lupin was sitting next to Black looking rather pensive. That was a fairly common expression for him, lately in particular. He was also looking exhausted, which made sense as last night was a full moon. Potter was reclined carelessly on the other side of Sirius, a Quidditch magazine open in his lap and absorbing his attention. Maybe, if I was very lucky, Dumbledore would give him a dangerous assignment and his arrogance would put him out of my misery. Then Dumbledore started speaking again, robbing me of my momentary fantasy of a world without James Potter.

"As some of you are aware, Voldemort attacked a muggle village on Thursday night."

I sat back and listened while Dumbledore explained the events since Thursday night in highly condensed and edited format. I found that I couldn't help feeling a little superior for having actually been present at most of these events he was roughly summarizing. I recalled the almost suffocating intensity of the magic that filled the clearing during that ritual – the heady high of merely being in the presence of that kind of power. And, of course, a bit smug about the fact that I was dating someone as staggeringly powerful as Hermione.

Then he moved on to a brief summary of the battle following the ritual, and my feelings sobered significantly even while the feeling of superiority grew, particularly with regard to the Marauders. Having actually taken place in a real battle, in which people had died… I couldn't help but feel like I'd officially risen above all the petty schoolboy nonsense. It was a strange feeling, one that I hadn't really comprehended until that moment. Regardless of my age, this was the first moment that I'd _really _felt like an adult.

It made me wonder when that moment had been for Hermione.

"Thanks to Miss Wilkins," Dumbledore was saying, her name drawing me back to his little speech, "we were able to locate Voldemort's headquarters. By the time we arrived, he had cleared it out, but we were able to learn a few things from it. The fact alone that we forced him to relocate should be considered a victory."

"Sir," Potter spoke up, "How was that thanks to Wilkins?"

Dumbledore's eye twinkled at the ponce. With a stir of unease, I couldn't help but think he'd been _hoping _someone would ask that question. "It seems that Voldemort had planned his ambush in order to attack me while my back was turned. Hermione was able to disrupt that plan by engaging him directly. He apparated them both back to his headquarters. Before she escaped, Hermione left behind a bloodbonded item that I was able to track."

In the silence that followed, all eyes turned on Hermione where she sat apart from everyone at the desk with the diction quill. She bore the astonished stares with a cool indifference that managed to make her look ten years older. The impression she gave was that she'd merely done her duty and would not hesitate to do as much again. Glancing around, I didn't think there was a single person in the room who wasn't impressed, even among the adults. Well, except maybe Alek and Alastor, but I knew Alek wouldn't be showing any more than he wanted to be, and Alastor had almost certainly already had the whole story from Alek. Even the others who'd been there last night probably hadn't gotten the whole story of what had happened with Hermione.

Of course, Dumbledore had actually made Hermione's actions sound a bit more impressive than they were. He'd made it sound like she'd done all of that with cool deliberation instead of as the result of desperation. I wondered why, but resolved that I'd have to wait and ask her when we were alone later.

"She what?!" Potter's strident protest cut through the silence, drawing all eyes to him. "What was Wilkins even doing there? I thought student members were just training and helping from here. Why was she there if none of the rest of us were?" he demanded, much in the way of a spoiled toddler. The prat would probably piss himself if he ended up surrounded by attacking Death Eaters as we had last night.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said patiently, "Hermione is one of very few powerful enough to contribute to the ritual that we used to locate Molly."

The discrepancy between "Mr. Potter" and "Hermione" sounded quite loud to me, and I was sure I wasn't the only one noticing.

"Well… But…" Potter sputtered, his face turning a very satisfying shade of his house color. "There is no way that she's more powerful than me!" he finally complained.

"Mr. Potter, sit down!" McGonagall snapped.

The idiot dropped back into his chair like a good dog, but he sent a poisonous glare at Hermione.

Dumbledore, unfortunately, had gotten a speculative gleam in his eyes. "Perhaps it would be best if we settled this now, before it becomes a problem," he suggested thoughtfully. "Mr. Potter, Hermione, why don't you both step over here."

I watched warily despite my glee at Potter's humiliation that was guaranteed to follow. What was Dumbledore up to now, I had to wonder.

Dumbledore gestured toward the side of the room, which had opened into a lane about five or six meters long at some point when I'd not been looking. At the end of it were three practice dummies.

I fought a smirk at what I knew was coming. Hermione might have trouble with the small stuff, but I knew for a fact that the high end of her magic was downright scary.

"Mr. Potter, why don't you go first," Dumbledore suggested amiably. "Your highest power Reducto, I think."

Potter nodded, his chest puffed out self-importantly as he drew his wand and took aim. He squinted in concentration, took a deep breath, then shouted, "REDUCTO!"

The center dummy was hit right in the middle with a loud _crack_. The whole thing toppled backward, the top half crumbling apart from the bottom. With a smug little sniff, he sheathed his wand and turned to face Hermione with very clear doubt that she could do better.

Hermione glanced at Dumbledore as though asking if she really had to do this. When he just smiled in returned, she sighed a little and took the place Potter had just left. She drew that beautiful wand casually, and I watched as her eyes became half-lidded as they often did when she was working extra hard at controlling her magic. She took aim, and I noticed that there were three standing dummies at the end of the lane again, though the one Potter had hit was still lying down there.

"Reducto," Hermione incanted quietly.

Even halfway across the room, I could feel the faint backwash of power as it rolled through her.

And then the spell landed with a strident detonation that made me think of a muggle cannon, and everything at the end of that lane basically ceased to exist. It was significantly more devastating than the Reducto she'd used in the battle, likely due to that amazing new wand.

The room was completely silent as the dust in the lane slowly began to settle.

Hermione sheathed her wand and strode back to her seat, somehow resisting the opportunity to so much as sneer at Potter's gobsmacked expression.

"Well, I believe that is settled, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore inquired pleasantly.

Potter nodded a little vaguely and wandered back to his chair.

"Now then," Dumbledore said brightly as he moved back to the front of the room. "Due to Voldemort's recently increased activity, I've decided that it would be for the best to increase the training sessions for the students members to three times a week. From now on, you'll be meeting after dinner on Sunday as well as Tuesday and Thursday. Is that acceptable to everyone?"

I personally thought that it sounded like a brilliant idea. After last night, I was more inclined than ever to learn every defense spell anyone was willing to teach me. Potter was still sulking and didn't respond at all. Most everyone else was nodding their agreement.

Dumbledore had just opened his mouth to speak again when Regulus suddenly hissed sharply and gripped his right hand over his left wrist.

"He's calling already?" Dumbledore asked gravely.

Regulus nodded stiffly.

Sirius, I noticed, had gone bone white and was staring at his brother with horror. Lupin was watching with concern. Potter looked like he couldn't decide if he should be more disgusted or angry at the display. Most everyone else was looking at Regulus with mistrust.

Hermione reached Regulus just as he was getting to his feet. She put her hands on his upper arms firmly and held him at her arms' length. "Is he angry?" she asked quietly, but not as though she was trying to keep it a secret.

Regulus grimaced and nodded.

Hermione's eyes closed briefly and she sighed. "There won't be any misdeeds for him to find," she encouraged.

Regulus nodded uneasily.

Hermione glanced at Dumbledore, who was waiting patiently behind her, then pulled Reg into a quick hug. "Be safe," she implored. He gave her a small, shaky smile, then allowed Dumbledore to lead him out of the room.

"He's going to be okay, right?" Sirius asked Hermione nervously.

Hermione sighed and faced the elder Black with sympathy in her eyes. "Voldemort is not a kind master, Sirius, but we're giving Reg all the help that we can. There are no guarantees, but I have faith that it will work out."

Sirius sighed heavily and leaned forward to bury his face in his hands. Lupin put a supporting hand on his shoulder.

"What the fuck makes you so special?" Potter said in a low, dangerous voice.

I shook my head in silent disgust.

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall snapped, "Ten points from Gryffindor for language!"

Potter didn't seem to hear her as he continued to glare at Hermione.

"I've never claimed to be special, Potter," Hermione said with quiet intensity.

"Of course not!" Potter sneered. "The Slytherin Princess would never lower herself to announcing her own 'virtues'."

"_Grow up_, you spoiled child," Hermione growled. "You treat everything like it's a game. Well this is _not_ a game! You want to know what you 'missed out on' last night? Nine people died! I killed seven of them!"

And she said that with a healthy dose of self-disgust and not a trace of bragging.

"Bullshit," Potter paled.

"Another ten points from Gryffindor," McGonagall said in exasperation. Again, she was ignored.

"She's not lying, young man," Flitwick spoke up disapprovingly. "She saved Minerva's life, and possibly mine as well. We were badly outnumbered."

"You want to be 'special' too, Potter?" Hermione sneered gravely, "Why don't you try acting like an adult?"

Dumbledore reentered the room alone at that moment, his small frown forming as he took in the tense atmosphere. "All right, everyone. I think we've covered the main points. If the students will please return to their dormitories?"

I waited until Potter had left the room, then gave Hermione a small nod before departing. It was abundantly clear that no one in the room was assuming Dumbledore's dismissal applied to her.

* * *

**~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~**

Once the last of the students – well, besides me – were out of the room, the tension level dropped dramatically. I didn't quite sigh as I resumed my seat, but I did wonder if I'd made a mistake in recruiting James. It was abundantly clear that he wasn't ready for this yet. I just hoped I could get it beaten into his skull soon, or I was going to seriously consider recommending that we just Obliviate him and kick him out of the Order until he grew up. I still believed that he had potential. I was just starting to wonder if he'd survive long enough to reach it with the attitude that he had.

I refocused my attention on the meeting as it turned to the real business of the Order – manipulating the Ministry and doing our best to protect the general population from Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

After everyone with current assignments had given their reports, Albus announced the last item on the agenda.

"The Order of the Phoenix needs a headquarters not related to Hogwarts. Something that can be accessed by any Order member at any time. It should be a location that can't be traced back to any member. Does anyone have any suggestions?"

Looks and quiet words were exchanged, but no one hastened to speak up.

"Hermione, do you have any suggestions?" Albus asked me directly.

I chose to pretend like there was nothing odd about that. I knew that Albus was wondering if I could suggest a place we'd used in the future, but Grimmauld Place wasn't available yet. "We could use my house," I offered.

"That's very kind of you," Albus frowned, "but it can't be connected to anyone in the Order."

"Severus is the only one who knows about it," I said before he could dismiss my suggestion. "And there's no paper trail connecting it to me. I renovated an abandoned building in Muggle London. It's already quite large. With a few expansion charms, it would be perfect for the Order."

Albus considered that for a moment, before offering me a chance to back out. "If you did this, the house would still belong to you – in so much as it does now – but it would be used for Order business at all times of the day and night. You'd have to expect visitors at any time, possibly for extended periods."

"I understand that, sir," I nodded. "Frankly, the Order is more important than any one of us. The location of my house is such that, with the right combination of wards, it would be virtually impossible for Voldemort to find it. I believe it would be an ideal headquarters, and I am very willing to offer it."

Albus nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes were twinkling at me like I'd just promised that Christmas would come every month this year. "Very well, Hermione. We'll take a look at it tomorrow."

* * *

**UPCOMING: Potter's a prat (shocking, right?), and what's the deal with Hermione's cool new wand? Of course, if you're hoping for cut and dry answers… go read a story written by a Gryffindor. ;-)**


	4. Pride and Prejudice

**Author's Note:** So sorry that this one took so long. Real Life decided to sucker punch me, and it was a bit of a task getting myself back into the mindset to write. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the long chapter.

As always, great big squishy hugs for my brilliant beta, **bluefirefly5**. Her encouragement and insightful suggestions have yet again provided a much better final product for all of you.

* * *

**Old Magic **

**Chapter IV: Pride and Prejudice**

* * *

**~.~.{S.*.S}.~.~**

**5 December 1977 - Monday**

Life, as always, went on without regard for the fact that everything had changed. Everything _was _changing. Thinking back to last summer, to the start of this year… It was hard to believe that it had been only months. It felt like an entire lifetime had come and gone. Myself, I barely recognized. And, of course, it all came back to Hermione. She had strolled into my life without warning, and changed everything.

Instead of being well on my way to becoming a Death Eater, as I almost certainly would have been, I was officially a part of a group fighting against them. Instead of dreaming of battle and glory, I'd actually been part of a battle – and found that what little glory was to be had from such a thing was not worth the cost. Most importantly, I was not that bitter, hated boy loathing himself as much as his enemies. I was Severus Snape, and for once, I didn't resent that. How could I, when Hermione obviously didn't? When she always looked at me as though _she_ was the lucky one, just to be near _me_.

For the first time in my life, I was part of something that mattered. For the first time, I had a future that looked bright enough, I actually wanted to live to see it.

"Silence," Alek's traditional greeting quieted the room as he strode to the front.

And somehow, despite everything, there were still classes to attend, tests to take, an entire world going on around me as though nothing had changed. It still took me by surprise, particularly on Mondays. Returning to classes after a weekend divided between brewing potions for the Order and training with Hermione both magical and physical was something like stepping into another world – another life. It hardly felt real.

By the time Alek reached the front of the room, it had fallen into utter silence. No one dared to speak out of turn beneath his watchful gaze. In the few months Alek had been teaching, he was already well known as fair but severe.

"Today, we are beginning our term projects," Alek announced, his quiet tone easily carried over the room. "These projects will account for fifty percent of your second term grade, and the practical portion can be used for your NEWT practical. You will complete these projects in teams of two. Each pair will choose a different project from the list on the board." He flicked his wand and the chalk rose to begin scrawling out a list in a neat hand. "Choose your partners now and seat yourselves together."

I didn't quite groan when he didn't assign our partners, but I wanted to. I wished, yet again, that Hermione was in this class still. There was no one else that I even talked to much, meaning that I was either going to end up alone, or worse, stuck with that twit Gryffindor, Ashleigh when everyone else had paired.

"Severus."

I forced my face to blank before turning to face Lucius, who was standing right behind me with his books tucked into his arm. "Lucius," I replied in kind.

"Do you want to pair for this?" he asked expressionlessly.

I stared at him a moment, but I knew I hadn't misheard him – however much more likely that seemed. "Why?" I asked after a moment.

"Because we're the top Slytherins in this class," he replied simply. And maybe it was that simple. If we could work together civilly, there was no doubt that we'd ace this project. Granted, that was a rather substantial "if".

"We're not in second year anymore, Lucius," I warned flatly. "If we're working together, you will be doing your portion of the work."

That Malfoy mask slipped momentarily as he actually blinked in surprise, at the tone or the ultimatum, but he recovered himself quickly. "Of course," he answered smoothly, welcoming himself to the seat next to mine.

Well, that was that, I supposed. I reclaimed my seat next to him and studied the board.

Alek made his way to my – our, now – table less than a minute later. "Mr. Snape. Mr. Malfoy. Have you decided on a topic?"

"Dark curses," I said before Lucius could speak. I glanced at him and raised an eyebrow, not asking permission, but allowing him a chance for rebuttal.

He stared at me a moment, in that way he had that made me feel like he was trying to figure out what made me tick. Then he just nodded.

Alek just twitched his wand toward the blackboard, then moved on toward the next group that had managed to get settled. The Dark Curses topic on the board was stricken through.

I glanced around the room, mildly curious about the other groups being formed. Not surprisingly, Potter looked to be in the final stages of begging Lily to partner with him. That little, half exasperated smile on her face was one that I recognized. She was about to give in. In front of them, Sirius and Lupin had their heads together when Alek approached them. They seemed to have come to an agreement by that point, and informed Alek that they were choosing Dark Creatures. I rolled my eyes minimally at the totally unsurprising choice.

Longbottom and Ferris were another unsurprising pair. They chose Dueling Spells. Potter and Lily chose Warding Defenses and Protections, which, by the look on their faces, was entirely Lily's choice while Potter neatly tucked his tail between his legs and accepted it. I may have smirked at that had I not been aware that Lucius was presently watching me as much as everyone else.

Pettigrew, I was tickled to see, had ended up with Ashleigh. Between the two of them, I had no doubt that they'd manage a Troll with Distinction. Neither looked happy about the arrangement, but both seemed resigned.

Narcissa, all calm, pureblood poise, was nonetheless sulking where she was seated next to Adrian Avery. She saw me watching her and her glare turned murderous. Ah. So she'd been hoping to partner with Lucius, I gathered. She had taken to going out of her way to be near him of late. Unfortunately for her, Lucius rarely acknowledged her.

Narcissa chose Cursed Objects without any evidence that she cared at all what Adrian thought about it. That was actually a good one for her, considering the notorious collection of dark artifacts in the Black collection. Pettigrew and Ashleigh ended up with Battlefield Healing. Humorously, they both looked like believed they had no hope at all of doing well on it, but there weren't many options left by the time they got themselves settled and were able to choose a topic.

"These projects will be due two weeks before your NEWTs. They will consist of an essay between three and ten feet in length. Do the bare minimum at your own risk, kids. The second half of the project will consist of a practical demonstration. For dark curses, you'll demonstrate the counters. For cursed objects, you'll demonstrate detection and removal spells… I'd like to think you're all intelligent enough to extrapolate your own practical. If not, ask me after class." The way his eyes settled on Pettigrew and Ashleigh as he said that last brought a smirk to my lips at last.

"Your work on this project will be done on your own time, but you'll be seated next to your partner for the remainder of the year – just to remind you of the fruits of teamwork. Now, everyone up!"

I rose quickly along with everyone else, just before my desk and chair were shunted toward the side of the room.

"Potter, name the three schools of simple shield spells!"

* * *

**~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~**

I stifled a yawn as I passed the gargoyle on my way out of Albus' office. It was almost nine, and I'd been in there since six. I'd had my breakfast at my desk in the corner of Albus' office while listening to Fabian's report on the DMLE. That had led into Gideon's report on his latest mission for his "day job" as an auror. Like most of the reports, it had pointed to just how important the Order really was. The Ministry was more concerned with _looking _like they were making progress than in actually making progress against the rising threat of the "new" dark lord.

After the brothers Prewett had gone, there had been another hour alone with Albus during which time we'd discussed his upcoming plans. He'd listened intently to all of my opinions, which were based off my knowledge of future events as much as current, though I didn't actually give him any details on the future knowledge. At least I was becoming more confident in my Occlumency. I still didn't think I could stand up long if Albus really wanted to make an issue of it, but I no longer feared that he would pick anything from my surface thoughts while we conversed. I was sure that he'd noticed my steadily strengthening shields, but he'd yet to comment on it.

This had become a common way for me to spend my mornings. Albus took most of his reports either early in the morning or later in the evening, before or after the Order members attended their day jobs. Though I rarely had much to say about most of the reports, Albus wanted me present as often as possible. It made sense. If some larger catastrophe was brewing, I would be most likely to notice it coming soonest if I was there to hear all the details.

Of course, I didn't think that that was all that Albus was doing by inviting me to join the debriefings. The way that he led me sometimes, to reach certain conclusions on my own rather than just giving me his thoughts made me think that he wanted me to get used to acting in that capacity. Everything felt like a test with him. A test that I didn't know how to study for, and often didn't even know if I'd passed or failed. It was disconcerting, but I was growing almost alarmingly accustomed to it.

Albus was grooming me for something – what I'd not yet ascertained. Which left me to suspect his every inference. And my every reaction, lest I fall in line without realizing that I was doing so.

I passed the walk down to the dungeons lost in thought, and stifled another yawn before slipping into my cool, indifferent mask as I entered the potions classroom. I still liked classes. I still loved to learn. Lately, though, school had come to feel like little more than the decoy for my real life. A life that revolved around Severus and the Order.

Luckily, Severus was a part of my decoy life, which made it much more bearable.

I slipped into my seat next to him, and our hands found each other under the table without thought. Our fingers winding together was like releasing the valve on a pressurized tank of the tension with which I lived. I wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms and snog him senseless, but considering his general aversion to public displays of affection, that option was out until we could sneak away to our rooms later.

Our rooms were still connected, which made out lives just a bit easier. To begin, we were now able to choose whether we wanted to appear to go to bed and wake up together or not. We still did at least three days a week, just because the other students would probably assume we were fighting or something if we suddenly stopped visiting each other's rooms.

Slughorn finally started the class, and we soon fell into the easy, familiar pattern of brewing, with me following his lead and forcibly relaxing my general devotion to the wisdom of books in favor of the wisdom of Severus. When it came to potions, The Wisdom of Severus was always superior. It was just one more thing that I loved about him. He truly was a rare genius when it came to potions.

Our potion was nearly finished when my general state of controlled paranoia saved it from a messy end. Movement from the corner of my eye – movement that didn't quite fit into the standard background bustle of the classroom – had me reacting instantly. I turned just in time to see the asphodel sprig James was in the process of tossing toward my cauldron. My hand rose instinctively against the hurled projectile, and my magic rose with it. I wasn't thinking of a spell, only reacting to the circumstance. And for once in the last three months, my magic responded to my intent flawlessly.

What rose from my hand was like nothing I had ever seen before. It shimmered gold, just like my magic, and looked almost like a shield. Unlike shields that repelled magic, though, this shield responded to the physical object, reflecting it with such accuracy, that it flew twice as fast on its path back to James. It hit him right in the palm, bounced off, and landed in his cauldron.

James' eyes widened in perfect shock for just an instant before he glanced toward his cauldron, then ducked just in time for his potion to explode out of his cauldron.

Unfortunately, Lily wasn't watching closely enough to avoid the spray of boiling hot potion.

"What was that?" Severus whispered in my ear while Slughorn was bustling Lily out the door with James to escort her to the hospital wing. "What spell did you use?" he clarified when I didn't immediately answer.

I finally turned back around. Severus was already bottling our perfect – better than perfect – potion. I shook my head minimally, "I'm not really sure. Intent-based magic," which was essentially an adult form of accidental magic. It was fairly rare, usually only seen in moments of extreme distress. A parent levitating a falling child without wand or spell, for example.

Severus glanced at me and raised his brows in a way that managed to convey both that he was impressed and that he wanted to talk about it more later.

I just nodded my reply.

We were the first ones done, as usual, so we spent the last twenty minutes of class, after turning in our potion and cleaning up our station, reading. Severus was currently immersed in a dark arts book, though the cover was charmed to make it look like a Defense book. I was reading another in a long line of books I'd found in the library about Salazar Slytherin. Unfortunately, most of the books were written at least a few generations after his death, and had little reputable information about him or his life. Still, I had to try to find something that might indicate why he'd commissioned my wand. Even a single line buried in one of the books might give me the hint I needed to decide if there was time travel or prophecy ever related to him, or if he'd maybe had another reason for that wand.

When we were finally dismissed, I left the room with my nose still in the book. I'd just seen something that may have been vaguely promising. Or, it may have been nothing, but I couldn't bring myself to put it down before exploring the possibility as thoroughly as possible. I'd go crazy if I lost the train of thought before I next picked it up.

My paranoia again warned me of danger shortly after leaving the potions lab. I was in the process of locating the danger while drawing my wand when Severus' hand closed around my arm and yanked me aside just in time to avoid a boil hex. I spotted James where he'd just sent the hex at my back, and my wand was just rising, though I wasn't entirely sure what I was going to do besides threaten him or defend myself, when another hex flew over my shoulder.

Narcissa stepped around me, one side of her face already sprouting boils from where she'd evidently taken the hex meant for me, and she and James were abruptly dueling in the middle of the hall.

I left my wand up to defend against stray hexes if necessary, and glanced briefly at Severus, unsure exactly what to do about this unexpected turn of events. He shook his head, his eyes as bewildered as I felt. In more than three months, I'd never seen Narcissa get into this kind of fight. She was much more the type to lay traps – I still hadn't forgiven her for that despair trap – and attack with refined insults that nonetheless cut to the bone than she was to dueling. At the moment, she looked mad enough to flay James alive. Luckily for him – and poor Harry's eventual existence – James was the better dueler. Narcissa was doing a good job of closing that gap on pure rage though.

"_Protego_," I incanted quietly, raising a shield on the other side of the dueling pair when one of their hexes took a course toward a third year who'd stopped a little too close to watch.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Both James and Narcissa lost their wands to Slughorn's spell, and the corridor went very quiet while the spectators toward the back began to edge away from the scene.

Slughorn's redder than usual face settled on each of the duelers, who were both bearing signs of hex damage, then me, with my wand out. "Wilkins," he said finally. "Take Mr. Potter and Miss Black to the hospital wing. Everyone else," he looked directly at Severus, "you have classes to attend, I believe." With the two extra wands closed in one meaty fist, he returned to his classroom.

I looked at the two in question. James was glaring at me, Narcissa was glaring at the floor, wincing very slightly as one of the boils on her cheek burst. With a small sigh, I waved them in the direction of the infirmary. I just gave Severus a small smile before parting from him.

The walk up to the hospital wing was very quiet and very tense. James took the lead, his head held high despite the swelling on his neck indicative of the stinging hex he'd taken. Narcissa walked next to me, though with as much distance between us as the corridor would allow. She mostly kept her face turned down, as though hoping to conceal the boils from the casual eye.

Madam Wynsor took one look at us upon our entrance and gave us one of the most annoyed glares that I had ever been recipient of – and that was saying something. I gave her my most innocent smile in return. After all, I wasn't the one dripping puss on her sterile floor. "What happened?" she demanded as she shunted them each onto a bed and went to work on Narcissa after telling James to open his robe so that she could see the damage.

"That crazy Slytherin attacked me!" James snapped at once.

Narcissa sent him a glare meant to kill.

"Easy there, Potter," I said mildly, "You're outnumbered."

"Do you need to be here?" Wynsor asked me curtly.

"I believe I am wanted as a witness," I answered with a polite smile. Slughorn clearly meant to do something about the duel, or he'd not have retained the wands.

"Well, then have a seat," she gestured to a chair near the door.

I accepted the dismissal, and was just sinking into the seat when the door opened again, admitting Albus. He stopped there and looked at me, then conjured a squishy purple armchair next to me and seated himself.

For a long moment, we simply sat in silence and watched Madam Wynsor work. When she finally finished up, Albus looked at me. "Shall we?" he gestured toward their beds.

I nodded and led the way back over to them.

"How are they, Adel?" Albus inquired.

The mediwitch harrumphed irritably. "A boil hex and a stinging hex," she gestured to the applicable patients. "Valuable potions, Albus, not to mention my valuable time. Dueling in the corridors…"

"They will be duly punished, Adel," Albus placated.

She just huffed again and stalked toward her office while Albus turned twinkling eyes on James. "Now, why don't you tell me what happened," he advised.

James puffed his chest indignantly, "Black attacked me. I was defending myself, sir."

Albus nodded and looked at Narcissa. "Miss Black? Why did you attack Mr. Potter?"

"Professor," I interrupted, allowing my disapproval to be apparent, but containing the disgust I felt for his obvious favoritism.

He looked at me and raised his brow inquiringly.

"If you would permit me, I witnessed the altercation. I believe I can provide a less… biased assessment."

He gave a small nod of permission to continue.

"Potter cast the boil hex. I believe it was meant for me, but Severus pulled me out of the way, and it hit Narcissa. She retaliated."

James was glaring at me, Narcissa was frowning at me, and Albus seemed to be considering his response. "Would you both say that is accurate?" Albus asked them.

"Yes, sir," Narcissa said quietly, the picture of pureblood poise.

"Mr. Potter?"

James looked between the two of us, then at Albus, and finally at his knees. "Yes, Professor," he grumbled at last.

Albus nodded and focused on Narcissa again. "A week of detentions, I think, Miss Black, for poor handling of the situation. You may return to your classes," he drew her wand from his robe and passed it to her.

I clenched my jaw to avoid snarling something unpleasant. "Headmaster," I inserted with forced calm, "Could I perhaps speak with you privately for a moment?"

Albus looked at me with a combination of surprise and curiosity. "Very well, Miss Wilkins," he started toward the door.

I glanced at Narcissa and motioned for her to wait a moment. James looked like he could chew nails. I winked at him.

I met Albus near the door where he was patiently waiting to see what I had to say. "A _week_?" I demanded, keeping my voice low. "Yes, she got a bit carried away, but James hit her blindside with a very painful hex," I hissed at him.

He blinked at me as though he could not have guessed I would say something like that. Sometimes his mind games were very tiresome. "Do you really think it's your place to say so, Miss Wilkins?" And using my surname to remind me of my place…

"Obviously not," I admitted without hesitation. "Otherwise I'd have said it in front of them. Regardless of whether it is my place though, I think it's my duty. I know that you've been running this school for a long time, sir, and I respect that, but are you even aware of how blatantly you favor the Gryffindors, _particularly _over the Slytherins?

"Yes, I know that Voldemort was a Slytherin. I understand that a lot of dark wizards have come from Slytherin, but my house is not exclusive to producing them!"

"When you first arrived here, I would not have thought you'd ever so vehemently defend _your _house," he noted thoughtfully.

"That's because I'd never _been _a Slytherin," I assured him. "I, like every other Gryffindor you've taken under your wing, bought into the fact that Slytherins were evil. I know better now. Don't you see that you're ostracizing a quarter of the school? Don't you see that most Slytherins would _never _come to you with a problem because they don't _trust _you? Do you realize that the children who've had the most difficult lives – _abused_ children – tend to develop the traits of a Slytherin? The kids in my house need guidance as much if not more than anyone in this school. They need someone with strong Light tendencies to guide them, not shun and punish them, _proving _that you are the enemy their parents make you out to be!"

Albus stared at me while I tried to recover from that unintentional rant. I hadn't realized how much that had been building up these last few months, but I supposed this outburst had been inevitable. He glanced toward Narcissa and James, then focused on me again. "I can't say that I approve of your approach, but I do see your point," he finally relented. "Since you have taken such a keen interest in this incident, what do you suggest for punishment?"

"_One_ detention for Narcissa," I said firmly. "For overreacting." He looked doubtful, so I pushed on. "You should note the fact that she didn't use any spell more damaging than stinging and boil hexes, sir. We both know that she could have done much worse, even without delving into the dark magic that I am certain her family has taught her. She showed a great deal of restraint despite the situation."

He nodded slightly for me to go on.

"A month of detention for James."

He frowned disapprovingly, "You're certain that you're not allowing _your _prejudice to color that recommendation? I am well aware of the animosity that exists between the two of you."

"Sir, James Potter is an arrogant, entitled child. You seem to treat that like an excuse for his behavior. There are seven months left to his time as a student. If he doesn't learn better before graduation, how long do you think he'll survive this war? I think his childish behavior should be dealt with as harshly as possible to _maybe _beat some sense through his thick skull before he tries something so stupid against a Death Eater and gets himself killed.

"Furthermore, in addition to attempting to hex me _in the back, _he attempted to sabotage my potion in class today. When I deflected the attempt, it ended up in his cauldron, and Lily was injured as a result."

He sighed sadly, "I will speak to him about that, Miss Wilkins, but I can't punish him for what is your word against his." He held up his hand when I opened my mouth to protest, "If he attempts anything of the sort again, I assure you that he will be disciplined harshly."

I snapped my mouth shut irritably. Would someone have to be killed or seriously maimed before the man would take serious action? I chose not to say that though, as I had the sense that I was already pushing his patience at the moment.

"Now, shall we rejoin the others?"

I gave a stiff nod and followed him back to James and Narcissa, the latter of which looked both curious and suspicious for a moment before she wiped her face clear.

"Well, Miss Wilkins was kind enough to bring a few things to my attention. As a result, I have reconsidered," he said to Narcissa, his eyes much kinder than they typically were when facing any Slytherin except me. "I think one detention may be sufficient to remind you that retaliating is not the proper way to handle such a situation."

She blinked at him in surprise, then looked at me briefly. "Thank you, sir," she said quietly, clearly off-balance by the reduced sentence. "You may return to your classes, Miss Black."

She nodded and cast one more veiled look in my direction before leaving the infirmary with her head held high.

"Now, Mr. Potter," Albus said amicably when it was just the three of us. "Can you explain to me why you cast that boil hex at Hermione?"

"She ruined my potion, sir!" he exclaimed.

"That is _enough_!" I snapped in annoyed exasperation. "Your potion was ruined when your attempt to destroy _mine _backfired on you. Presently, I can't quite decide what bothers me more. Your shameless lies, or the fact that the headmaster allows you to get away with them. There is a _war _going on out there, James," I said coldly, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Hogsmeade. "If you want to live to see your twentieth birthday, I highly suggest that you give some serious thought to exactly how you plan to survive after graduation. The real world is going to be a rude awakening for you."

James looked like he was ready to breathe fire, but Albus stepped in before he could.

"As it happens, Mr. Potter, I agree with her," he said sending James that disappointed look that I so hated directed at me. I forcibly suppressed a smirk.

"What?" James demanded.

Albus gave James a very grave look. "Your behavior recently," I carefully did not snort at the "recently" part, "has been considerably less favorable than I would hope to see from you, Mr. Potter. I implore you to consider the fact that your educational career is nearly at an end. Behavior like this during auror training will not be tolerated. Therefore, in an effort to help you recognize that fact, I think two weeks detentions is appropriate."

James sputtered in total shock.

"And twenty points from Gryffindor for very poor judgment, Mr. Potter."

_Twenty, _I mentally snarled. Well, I shouldn't have been surprised at Albus going easy on _his _house – and it was most definitely still his house despite his supposedly nonbiased position as headmaster.

"Miss Wilkins, I believe it is time for you to return to class," he said to me before James could manage to form any sort of complaints. I assumed that Albus was going to give him that talking to now. I really hoped that he remained firm when they were alone together.

I just nodded to Albus and took my leave. As I left the infirmary, I couldn't help but acknowledge that my words had evidently had some kind of impact on the old man. The leniency he'd shown Narcissa, I hoped might become a trend toward Slytherins in general, but I wasn't about to hold my breath. It was entirely possible that he'd mostly done it to placate me. I would have liked to think that Albus could have learned something meaningful from what I'd said, but I couldn't help but think that the "old dogs and new tricks" concept absolutely applied to the old wizard.

Well, I hadn't gotten what I'd wanted entirely, but neither had Albus. That could only mean that I'd successfully wrung a compromise out of the old goat. I had to admit, it was a good start.

* * *

**~.~.{L.*.E}.~.~**

Lily was sulking a bit when she headed back to the common room after being released from the infirmary. She knew she was sulking, but she wasn't in the mood to care. James had promised to come see her right after dinner and walk her back. But he hadn't shown up.

She sighed and tried not to let it get to her. She tended to do that a lot with him. She knew that she was hopelessly in love with the prat, but he did still irritate her to no end sometimes. He still had a lot of growing up to do. He'd be an amazing man when he finally got there, she didn't doubt, but… For the first time, she really felt worried about how long it was going to take.

She'd overheard the argument in the hospital wing earlier when everyone had evidently thought her still asleep. She'd woken up to Madam Wynsor's grousing – that woman really needed to retire, as she'd obviously come to resent her job – and she'd been surprised to realize that James was _already _back in the infirmary. He really did try her patience sometimes.

She'd managed to catch Wilkins' explanation of the circumstances, which must have been accurate if James didn't try to refute it. Lily was really having a hard time getting a read on the new Slytherin. When school had first started, James had told her that Wilkins was responsible for his… interesting coloring. He'd explained what had happened, and she'd allowed herself to instantly hate the other girl.

Honestly, after today, she was feeling a little ashamed of herself for buying into that for so long. She really should have known better. She was well aware of how James treated Severus just because he was a Slytherin. Granted, Sev had fought back, and she even felt like he deserved it sometimes, but James had started it. It was the primary reason that she'd hated James for so long.

She sighed again. Why did everything have to be so hard? She loved James, but she just couldn't condone his prejudice. Of course, there was no talking him out of it either. Merlin knew she'd tried enough times. She was hoping that he'd grow out of it, but now it seemed that Wilkins was his latest target.

Hermione Wilkins – probably the future Mrs. Snape. The two of them had become the talk of the school after Halloween. Hermione was beautiful, charismatic, intelligent, talented, and powerful – she also seemed a typical Slytherin, but that wouldn't be a downside from Sev's perspective. And she looked at Severus like he was the only thing in the world that could possibly matter to her. That was a point in her favor in Lily's book. A big point. She really seemed to care for him, and Sev deserved that. There had been a time when Lily had wished that she could have felt that way for him, but it had never happened. _Cocky prats are more my style, _she thought with a fond smile.

Hermione seemed to be a good influence on Severus. Lily had spent years trying to draw him away from the dark arts and the Slytherins that seemed destined to follow You-Know-Who, but she'd never managed to do it. If anything, their every fight about it seemed to push him further in that direction. Then, in fifth year, she'd finally given up on him. She'd cut ties before he could break her heart completely beyond repair. But it was well known that Wilkins had no interest in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She didn't really talk to Gryffindors much, but Lily had heard from some Ravenclaws in the library that Hermione seemed to be willing to declare that fact to anyone who asked.

Before today, Lily had actually been considering the odds of a positive reception if she tried to talk to Hermione. After all, they did have a fondness for Severus in common. She still didn't know what she'd have said. Maybe just thank her for looking after Sev.

But what she'd overheard today had changed her perception of the Slytherin girl. Quite a lot, actually. Aside from having better training and a good deal of power – and being generally a bit odd – Lily had never thought Hermione was much different from anyone else at the school. Yet today, Lily had heard her not only stand up to the headmaster, but have a heated argument with him from what she could glean. She hadn't been able to hear most of what they'd said, but the tones were quite obvious. Hermione Wilkins had _scolded _Albus Dumbledore. And she'd not only gotten away with it, but she seemed to have gotten her way in a reduced punishment for Narcissa and a harsher one for James.

Though she did feel a little indignant on James' behalf, she couldn't help but agree with the fact that he really did need to grow up. Had he really tried to hex Hermione in the _back_? Had their potion really exploded because he was trying to sabotage Hermione's? Given the way he'd not fought his argument harder, she could only assume that that had, in fact, happened. She knew James well enough to know that he'd have thrown a complete hissy fit if Hermione had been lying.

The real question was… Who the hell was Hermione Wilkins that she could talk to the headmaster like that and get away with it? Who was she that he'd actually listen? In a lot of ways, she'd seemed more like a professor than a fellow student today. Actually, this wasn't the first time Lily had gotten that impression from the girl – it was just the first she'd thought of it in those terms. Hermione was a lot more mature than most of the seventh years.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she entered the common room. She glanced around but didn't see James anywhere. None of his friends were there either. She frowned at that. They'd been disappearing a lot lately. At first, she'd just assumed that they had some kind of grand prank in the works, but it had been a month now, and there had been no explosions literal or figurative, so she was starting to wonder.

They sometimes went to their dorm when they were plotting, so she headed in that direction. She was just reaching for the knob when shouting from inside caused her to pause.

"…JAMES, YOU STUPID, SELF-CENTERED FUCKING PRAT!" Sirius practically screamed.

Lily's mouth fell open a little. She had _never _heard Sirius and James have a fight that sounded that bad.

"WHAT IS WITH YOU?!" James shouted right back. "You haven't had my back since you started cozying up to that fucking Slytherin!"

"Hermione?! You think this is about Hermione?! Are you really that stupid! My baby fucking brother could DIE, you bloody idiot!"

"THAT'S what this is about?" James demanded. "He's a _Death Eater_, Sirius!"

There was a roar and a crash. Lily jumped and jolted out of her surprised stupor, rushing into the room. Sirius had James pinned on the floor and was punching him repeatedly in the face. Remus looked momentarily stunned to stillness. He was just reaching for his wand when Lily drew hers.

"_Impedimenta_! _Incarcerus_!" she shouted.

Sirius was knocked off James and quickly bound. He struggled futily against the bonds, still glaring at James. "He's my BROTHER!" he screamed. "How fucking DARE you!"

James pulled himself up slowly, wincing slightly as he put a hand to his bleeding mouth. He was shaking badly and looking like he couldn't decide if he should scream in return or cry.

Remus hurried to stoop at Sirius side and wrap his arms around him. He whispered something in his ear and Sirius snarled wordlessly before letting himself sag against Remus.

"What's going on?" Lily asked, bewildered and frightened.

"Wilkins," James snarled. "No, Sirius!" he snapped when it looked like Sirius was going to start yelling again. "She's what started this, I mean. She thinks she's so fucking perfect. Dumbledore favors her, all the teachers do. And then this shit with the Order."

Lily jumped when Remus suddenly drew his wand and pointed it at James. "One more word and I silence you," the werewolf said coolly.

James just blinked at him.

"You know the rules, damn it, James!" Remus snapped.

Something really weird was going on. First with James and Sirius fighting, and now _Remus _of all people was drawing a wand on his friend.

"It's Lily!" James protested.

"No one, James," Remus insisted.

"What is going on?" Lily demanded.

Remus sighed. "I'm sorry, Lily. We can't tell you."

Lily huffed in annoyance. "First, you lot are disappearing God knows where every time I turn around, and now you're fighting each other… Why can't you tell me?"

James dropped himself onto his bed and found a mirror to examine the damage to his face. Remus just heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry, Lily. We really can't tell you."

"Hermione," Sirius said quietly.

"What?" Lily blinked. Why did Hermione keep coming into this?

"Ask Hermione. I don't know if she'll tell you, but…"

"Why _does _Wilkins get to decide?" James posed, though he sounded a _little _less angry.

"I don't know, James," Sirius snapped. "She just does. Leave it, okay?"

James sneered, but then winced at his cut lip and said nothing.

"Ask Hermione Wilkins," Lily said again, just to make absolutely sure that they weren't going to laugh and tell her it was a joke. Not that this atmosphere seemed to preclude joking, but with this lot, one never could tell.

Sirius just nodded. "Yeah. She's a decent sort – for a Slytherin. She won't mind your asking, I'm sure."

Lily frowned at him for a moment. She hadn't realized that Sirius even knew Wilkins, but it certainly sounded like it. "Okay," she nodded, then looked at James' bloodied face and sighed. "Let's get you back to the hospital wing," she sighed, then couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "Three times in one day…" If they were lucky, Madam Wynsor would be gone for the night.

* * *

**~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~**

"_Tempus_."

03:13 glowed dull violet in the air at the point of my wand. The numbers faded as I tucked my wand back into my sleeve and ran a hand over my tired eyes. I needed sleep. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten a full night. My days had become overrun between school and the Order. Mornings and sometimes evenings spent with Albus – which was extremely stressful. Classes, studying, and meals fell between that, with wand practice and physical training squeezed into every available space.

Then I was crawling into bed with Severus – which was absolutely the best part of my day. If I was conscious enough, there was some snogging, and then sleep. Until I woke up from a nightmare, which had now ventured into Severus being maimed and killed, along with everyone else from the Order in addition to the old ones about my time. I could sometimes get back to sleep from them now, which I fully attributed to Severus' warm arms wrapped around me. Even without the nightmares, too many late nights were meeting too many early mornings.

I knew it wasn't good for me to consistently go with so little sleep, but I couldn't help but think that it was the least sacrifice I owed this war at the moment.

It was usually only one or two days a week now that I ended up wandering the corridors in the middle of the night, trying to get my mind off the latest horror it had invented. Occlumency was supposed to help with nightmares, but it didn't seem to be doing much for me yet no matter how hard I tried to clear my mind before sleep. My stupid mind didn't like to "clear".

It didn't help that the war was particularly hard to get off my mind when I spent so much of my days thinking about it. That had certainly gotten worse since Molly had been taken and all that had come of that. Though Molly and the twins had come out of that mess okay, it had been a rude awakening. I'd never doubted the seriousness of the war. Not since second year, at least. I'd been in enough tight scrapes, and watched my friends go through enough, to know that the war was very real, very dangerous, and that it wasn't going to go away on its own. Somehow though, that had faded a bit in recent months. I'd been so focused on my magic, and then Severus…

I sighed heavily. Severus. The one bright spot in a horribly dreary world. But I had to be careful. He made me happy, which was great, but I couldn't let myself become complacent.

I was currently wandering the dungeons. Even the teachers would be in bed by now, so I could have wandered above with minimal concern, but I'd grown rather fond of the dungeons, dank and cold as they were. There was a security in the slightly claustrophobic corridors, and the peace of knowing how small a percentage of the castle was either comfortable or familiar down here. No wonder the dungeons were a haven for the Slytherin house. This part of the castle was ours as much as our common room. And I knew these tunnels probably better than anyone in the castle except maybe the headmaster. Well, quite possibly better than him too. I couldn't see him spending a lot of time down here. Even if Albus did know them though, I doubted the castle would welcome him down here the way it did Slytherins.

Brushing aside my annoyance for the old man, I took stock of my surroundings that I'd scarcely been noting while I'd wandered. I was always aware of my surrounds, but not always on a conscious level. That part of me was now informing me that I'd wandered to the brink of my experience. The corridor ahead was unfamiliar to me, for all it looked just like every other.

I wasn't surprised at finding new territory after these past months of wandering. There was a reason that few even in Slytherin treaded very far off the beaten path down here. Like the staircases above, these corridors had a tendency to shift. Or, more appropriately, the walls did, opening tunnels and sealing others evidently at random. For that reason, getting lost down here was damnably easy if one was careless.

Luckily, I was very rarely careless. I considered turning back to familiar ground, but curiosity had always been my fatal flaw. If there was knowledge to be had, I would not be happy until I possessed it. With that in mind, I cautiously crossed the threshold into the unexplored tunnel. To the left, it turned abruptly back toward the way I'd come about a dozen paces down. To the right… inexplicably, it continued on for such a distance that it must have led at least half the width of the lake.

Drawing my wand, I made a small mark on the wall directly in front of the corridor I'd just exited. It was inconspicuous and unlikely to be noticed by anyone else, but I'd be able to find it and confirm that I was in the right place when I returned.

With a small thrill of excitement, I started off down the long tunnel, which sloped down at a minute angle, more felt than seen. I walked for a long time, noting that there was not a single intersecting corridor, or break in the monotonous stone walls. I was starting to wonder if I'd found another of the secret entrances into the castle. Perhaps this one let out in the Forbidden Forest. If that was the case, I decided, I would not attempt to explore what lay beyond. Not at night, at least. I'd come back on a weekend maybe, and figure out exactly where it went. Assuming that this did lead outside and not just to some obscure room.

The Chamber of Secrets suddenly popped into my head, and I wondered if there might not be another such room secreted down here. Another basilisk? A lethifold? What else might Salazar Slytherin have hidden down here? And would I automatically be attacked as a muggleborn, or spared as a Slytherin? Or would it spare anyone other than Salazar himself?

Just when I was seriously starting to consider the merits of tucking my tail between my legs and going back to my room, the end of the tunnel came into sight.

Gnawing my lip uncertainly, I eyed the blank wall ahead. The corridor seemed to turn ninety degrees to the left there. Trying not to audibly gulp, I drew my wand and wished that I felt as confident with that in my grip as I had at the beginning of September.

"Well, I've come all this way…" I muttered to myself, ignoring the shrewd voice in my head that told me I sounded like a brash Gryffindor. Harry would have gone on… which seemed to be case and point.

I gave myself a determined shake and started walking again. However Slytherin I'd become, I _was _still Gryffindor, at least in part. I'd just use my Slytherin cunning to moderate the Gryffindor impulsiveness, and I'd be fine. Probably.

At the end of the corridor, I found that it did indeed turn left. For about one meter, where it ended in a black wooden door, slightly ajar. Shaking my head in silent reprimand to myself, I stepped forward and gently pushed the door open with my left hand while my right gripped my wand tightly, prepared to attack or defend as necessary.

As the room beyond became illuminated as the torches and candles lit automatically, all thoughts of fear were forgotten, replaced by numbed awe.

I was standing on the threshold of one of the most amazing rooms I had ever seen in my life. It looked to be a sitting room on a rather… _large_ scale. It was oval in shape, probably twenty or thirty meters long and a little more than half that in width, strewn almost randomly with chairs, lounges, sofas, sofa tables and tea tables. The furniture looked to be mostly mahogany inset with what I was pretty sure was amaranth and gilded in silver or more likely platinum or palladium. The upholstery was in shades of green, largely emerald with some darker or lighter and a little black and rich brown thrown in for variety. It looked remarkably cozy despite everything being rich enough to suit the finest manor house. I couldn't help but feel an obscene urge to curl up on one of the lounges with a pile of good books and not move for a couple of days.

That scene, however, was _nothing _compared to what I found when I looked up. The "ceiling" was at least twenty-five meters above me, clear as glass, and showed a scene that I could only guess was the bottom of the Black Lake with faint moonlight from the gibbous moon casting somewhat eerie forms of fish or… something filtered through the shifting water. The walls, from floor to ceiling, were lined with bookshelves. Absolutely piled full bookshelves, a sight that literally brought tears to my eyes. Two broad balconies lined the walls around the circumference of the room at even intervals, and the space in the middle was sprinkled randomly with floating candles like in the great hall, though these looked to be dark green in color.

"Ah, welcome child," an unexpected voice almost made me scream. I flinched badly and gripped my wand more tightly as I scanned the room for the source of the voice.

"Above you, girl."

I took a step into the room while I spun and trained my wand on the voice. Only to find myself threatening a portrait.

Grimacing sheepishly, I slowly lowered my wand and took a couple more steps back to get a better look at the portrait. It was three meters tall and more than twice that in width, containing a life-sized man. He was lounged in a chair that would have fit right into the sitting room, the painted bookcase behind him looking remarkably like all the others, and the frame of the portrait colored just like the bookcases so that it very nearly looked like there was a real man sitting there instead of a portrait.

Fascinated, I studied the man. He was quite tall, slender, and with sharp features. His eyes were as black as Severus' eyes, and matched his blackest black hair, which was tied back at his neck elegantly. His nose was long and a bit sharp, but fit his features and gave him a rather aristocratic appeal. His chin was concealed beneath a long black goatee, plaited and threaded with black and dark green beads where it hung nearly long enough to brush his chest. He seemed to be about thirty, dressed in unrelieved black robes of an expensive and elegant – if antiquated – cut.

I realized that I'd been staring at him for a while, but he didn't seem to mind, as he seemed to have been staring at me with the same curious assessment.

"So you're the muggleborn who's such a credit to my house," he said thoughtfully.

My eyes widened and I had to force myself to close my mouth as I processed what he'd said. "You're Salazar Slytherin," I breathed rather dimly.

One elegant black eyebrow rose in strangely amused disdain.

I struggled to control my blush in response. "This was your room, then?" I asked.

A small nod was the reply.

"Um. Do you get visitors often?" I asked after a moment.

"You're the first since I died," he admitted almost absently.

My jaw dropped. "The first in a thousand years?"

"Do you think just anyone can get in here?" he asked, his frown questioning my intelligence.

"How come I could?" I inquired, ignoring his frown.

"Because I let you, of course."

"But why would you let me in here if you haven't let anyone else?" I pressed.

"Your magic intrigues me," he smirked. "Not many students have the power to shake the castle."

I blinked as I realized what he was talking about. "I can't possibly be the first in a thousand years to be that powerful," I argued.

His smirk grew a little, "But you're a lot more than merely powerful, aren't you, Hermione?"

* * *

**All right, we didn't quite get to Hermione's wand, but still an interesting chapter, no?**

**Up next, more Salazar, and Lily's questions. Please take a moment to review. I appreciate each and every one, though I can't promise intelligible responses as ffnet seems to be suffering some issues in that arena presently.**


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